I'm moving to a new house right now and my whole life is in boxes. Well, actually, I'm out of boxes and I'm waiting on a friend to respond to my begging and bring me more because she professes to have some sort of connection to the black market of boxes. I'll wait.
I was cleaning out the attic yesterday and ran across this old jewelry box that I had when I was twelve or thirteen and kept into high school. I opened it up and took out a couple of polished rocks that my uncle Mel made into necklaces back in the day, and then I threw the jewelry box in the trash because it was full of junk.
Then my beloved 4-year old that makes this blog so frequently with her unique antics, dug it out of the trash and said, "Mama look! Treasures!"