Every few weeks, I head to The City for groceries. To the store that says “would you like bags, or will you be using boxes?” I’m sure I could think ahead and bring reusable bags with me, but I don’t. I choose boxes every time. Good citizen of the Universe I am, recycling those heavy duty boxes that have hauled cauliflower, strawberries and pineapples from warmer corners of the planet. Sadly no. I pick boxes for their playability. Nothing lights up our house like a fresh stash of cardboard. Untarnished from sharpies, scissors or duct tape yet. The first duty for this batch was desk and chairs to write your newest novel. By tonight, bed and nightstand, where you plan on spending the night.