Boxes didn’t always used to be corrugated, you know. And maybe you did know or maybe, if you are the type of person who doesn’t know much about boxes, you didn’t. Maybe you don’t even know what corrugated means. Well, that’s what I’m about to tell you. The dictionary describes corrugated as “to bend into alternate furrows or ridges”, or “to wrinkle”. Think ripple chips. But cardboard.

Cardboard started out just like thin sheets. Nowadays we call it poster board. And then some genius came along and decided to try something new. He put a corrugated sheet of poster board intbetween two other flat sheets of poster board, folded it and bent it and wound up with corrugated boxes. Anyone would tell you that it was a pretty genius move, including myself.

Since the day they were born, corrugated boxes have been on quite the journey. They’ve helped people move all over the world. They’ve seen war zone after war zone. They hold memories and keepsakes, staying strong over the years as they sit patiently in attics, never complaining; their only fault is perhaps being too attractive to mice and other varmints.

Without corrugated boxes we could never receive any shipments from Amazon that weigh more than a few ounces. We probably couldn’t receive any shipments at all, because it’s only the corrugated boxes that can withstand the hardy lifestyle and handling of the average delivery experience.

Everything is cheaper now because it comes in corrugated boxes. Suppliers don’t have to pay for heavy duty packaging because there is a better option. From diapers to dishes, appliances and cat litter. The opportunities are endless. I, for one, am super pleased that such a thing exists. Every time we make a purchase that has to do with cardboard we throw the remains of the packaging into the garage for a bonfire. Sometimes the pile grows mighty high, especially around the holidays when there is a lot of mail and gifts coming in.

All members of the family lend a hand and we march the boxes out to the firepit, taking as many trips as necessary. The best part is lighting it all on fire. The blaze sets in almost instantly, roaring across the giant heap, lifting higher and surging outward, producing a glow and warmth that is both magical and comforting. The ashes go wafting upwards, sometimes in large sheets, and we watch them until they disappear.