It must have been trash pickup day in Oak Grove.
Poor addled grasswipe Judy came back to the bodega with her little red wagon stacked high with new treasures for the "stash".
You know, Judy's being really selfish, really inconsiderate, towards her children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and great-great-grandchildren, who'll all have a big big mess to clear out when the pie-and-jam primitive's moved to a nursing home, which could be any day now.
She apparently rents a storage unit somewhere, and one suspects her apartment is packed to the gills, the rafters, with her "treasures."
These descendants probably don't look at the packrattery the same way she does; once she's safely esconsced in an old folks' home, they'll either have to rent a couple of construction-sized dumpters in which to throw all this junk out, or have a megamassive garage sale to get rid of it at five cents on the dollar for what she paid for it.
Judy's being very inconsiderate here.