Behind the Ironic Column

There used to be a convention that women who were probably past 40 but not yet old enough to be called elderly were referred to as being “of a certain age.”  I don’t see that terminology used much anymore – probably because most women are freer to acknowledge their exact age or more emboldened to change it to suit their whim.

This came to mind today as I was continuing my progress through a stash of possessions – clearing out, giving away, and contemplating what relevance they’ve had to my life. One of these things, curiously enough, is a cardboard box. I can hear a voice in my head saying – well, no one in her right mind is keeping a cardboard box just because it reminds her of the past. And, in fact, that’s probably true. I wouldn’t still be keeping it if I hadn’t figured out something useful to do with it – but the reason I figured that out is likely because I wanted to keep it. Mind you, the contents of the box are gone but I did have them for many, many years. 

The box originally contained an étagère, another word you don’t see all that often these days, but not a solid, heavy étagère. Rather, it was one that seemed to fit the light and airy sound of the word itself. It was made of cardboard tubes covered in sunshine yellow, with white shelves of some kind of heavy plastic, and intricate corner pieces that fit together to build the whole system. When constructed it was about six feet tall, but the pieces disassembled and fit into a box that’s about 3 feet long and a little over a foot wide. In other words, it was small enough for me to transport around from one dwelling to another without needing a truck or even another person. I’m very fond of things that disassemble, or that can be put together in different ways depending on the needs of the moment.

I fell in love with this étagère at a shopping mall in Charlotte, North Carolina, and spent way more money on it than I had available at the time. I don’t remember the actual amount but it was an impressive sum to me at the time. All of this was long before I even imagined coming to Oregon with its recycling ethic, but it would fit right in with today’s priorities. The company name started with Environmental … the rest is obscured by years of tape and labels

The shelf itself eventually became too tattered to move and I yielded to those who said I should just get rid of it. But I can see it in a dozen different apartments and houses – often used as a room divider because it could separate space without blocking light and brought that touch of sunshine with it. I can’t even begin to count the number of times I disassembled and reassembled that shelf – and the particular attention that had to be paid as it got older because all of the corner pieces didn’t fit together quite the way they once had. Given the number of books I’ve always carted around, I had originally intended it to be a bookshelf. It didn’t take long to discover that it was beautiful but not substantial enough to endure the weight of books. So it became an ideal display area for small objects and plants.

The reason I’m thinking about it today is that I just carted its original box in from the storage room. Long ago, the box became the home of Christmas decorations. It’s just the right shape to store a lot of oddly shaped decorations and sturdy enough to protect them. It closes neatly on itself and even had a carrying handle at one point. For the last few years, the box has been standing in the storage room – still holding Christmas ornaments that I haven’t really used in my Portland apartments because I haven’t put up a real tree here. Manhandling a tree in a house is something I can do, and often did in Virginia, but it’s more hassle than it’s worth for one person in an apartment. I have greenery and decorations – just not a tree.

The box is definitely showing its age – but I think I’ll keep it around a while longer. I still have Christmas ornaments after all – and they still need a home. Now I just have to figure out how to get it into my already overstuffed hall closet. Just seeing it there will remind me of that bright yellow shelf and its projection of sunshine from any corner.

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