On the crates.

Hey, you hiding behind those crates!

I used beer crates as a foundation.

Boxes, bales, crates handled piece by piece.

Now get below and get them crates ready.

Things coming out of crates and eating people?

Do you realize the entire population is still packed in crates?

Crates from overseas have been moving through his factory, bypassing French customs.

I asked the Kirin beer company to propose, because at that time, the Asahi beer company made their plastic beer crates red, which doesn't go with the color of the paper tubes.

That's a problem primarily associated with developing work agriculture, whether it's a lack of infrastructure, refrigeration, pasteurization, grain stores, even basic fruit crates, which means that food goes to waste before it even leaves the fields.

Crate after crate yielded bottles, until all six were empty and the table high with straw the only things that came out of these crates besides the bottles were a number of test tubes and a carefully packed balance.

Mr. Merryweather stopped to light a lantern, and then conducted us down a dark, earth smelling passage, and so, after opening a third door, into a huge vault or cellar, which was piled all round with crates and massive boxes.

And directly the crates were unpacked, the stranger went to the window and set to work, not troubling in the least about the litter of straw, the fire which had gone out, the box of books outside, nor for the trunks and other luggage that had gone upstairs.

He was glad of the work, but when he arrived he got bored out of his mind, sitting in his truck waiting and waiting and waiting on the docks as the worker ants muscled crates and bundles off other trucks and into slings that lifted the goods into the hold of the ship.

There were a couple of trunks indeed, such as a rational man might need, but in addition there were a box of books big, fat books, of which some were just in an incomprehensible handwriting and a dozen or more crates, boxes, and cases, containing objects packed in straw, as it seemed to Hall, tugging with a casual curiosity at the straw glass bottles.

like never before to write and mail strangers letters when they need them most, but most of all, fueled by crates of mail like this one, my trusty mail crate, filled with the scriptings of ordinary people, strangers writing letters to other strangers not because they're ever going to meet and laugh over a cup of coffee, but because they have found one another by way of letter writing.