7 April 2004
Cat-In-A-Box
Every time I see my parents, my Dad gives me a box full of fresh fruit. As a crop production consultant, he has implicit permission to pick a bit of fruit from the orchards and fields of his Kern County farmer-clients. In winter, I get oranges and almonds. In summer, it's grapes and Asian pears. Each batch of fruit comes in an industry fruit-box.
Each farm's label is unique, and these boxes are being rendered obsolete by crude styrofoam analogs, so I keep every one of them. They're all over the apartment, holding DVDs, magazines, mail, and old journals. They're also, incidentally, the perfect size for my 12-pound cat.