Yesterday we went to pick up boxes that we had ordered the "Box Factory" where artisans are making it. We were very happy because the boxes were very nice and well crafted.
Already on the way to the car my husband tells me: Look, an old trunk. And it was there, with its locks, its wooden ribs, its metal reinforcement corners. The only thing missing was leather handles on both sides. They were cut for unknown reasons.
A trunk very similar but smaller I had already met once in Rīga, my hometown. To move to Spain I left it to my friends who still use it. That one had the handles.
I convinced my dear that this is one thing I need to have, although in the storeroom (to save my wool, for example). We took it on both sides and took up to car, for wonder of neightbothood and visitors of Malasaña. My dear now calls me basurillas, but I appreciate very much the help and thank the Universe for this unexpected and beautiful gift.
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