My Name Is Susan and I Am A Pack Rat…

Moving is like an archeological dig if you are a pack rat, and I am one.  I come by this naturally.  My grandmother was the queen of pack rats.  When she broke her hip and was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s the duty of cleaning her home of well over thirty years fell to my parents and uncle.  Her freezer I am told was like cutting through the layers of the Earth.  On the top you had relatively new items, while in the middle there was mystery meat from 1980.  Keep in mind that she fell in 1993.  By the time they reached the bottom they had found 7 years worth of Christmas candy still wrapped in the colorful ribbons and bows that she had been given from her students at Headstart.  Oh yes, I come by it naturally.

 

One would think that in a house that only has 4 closets that you wouldn’t be able to accumulate stuff, but let me tell you that isn’t a hindrance.  It just requires you to be more creative.   I will save anything, and do.  If it had a purpose once it may again.  However what I don’t realize at the time is that at some point either when I move, or when I die that these things must be dealt with.  So why not pitch them immediately?  Well you never know when it may come in handy.

 

Other than boxes from cellp phone purchase, my digital camera, and a collection of licence plates here is a sampling of some of the more interesting items that I found.  A Nokia cell phone from when Cricket was the best cell phone service in the area.  I think I paid $100 for it.  I remember when I got it, I was jazzed because you could change the cover colors! 

 

Oh and then my favorite find.  10 cards of pantyhose from the 1970’s.  Yes I know I wasn’t born until 1974.  These were aquired from another notorious packrat–Mary Katherine.   When she died once again the duty of shoveling out was handled by my mother.  I was so taken with the fact that she had saved these that I wanted them too.  You never know, sky blue, egg plant purple, and burnt orange may come back into vogue for nylons soon!

 

There there was this.  Jacob’s boutenire, and my wrist coursage from my Senior prom!  Ironically I had them stored in a diaper wipe container.  Or rather my mother did before she made me take over custody of the box in which those were held.  See, I began my pack ratness early!  Another item from that same box was my Grim Reaper costume.  When I was in college I worked for Payless Shoestores at an outdoor mall.  My manger made this skull on a stick thing, and I held it in my hand.  Lets do the math, I graduated from highschool as a size 8.  Four years of college and 20 lbs later this costume fit.  It is now 2008, so we are talking 11 years and 24 more pounds since college was over.  Why then do I need this costume?

 

Finally, in case I ever wanted to start my own bottling company I found a few of  these.  If that enterprise fails I suppose I could always start a bottle flute band or something.

 

Oh yes, my name is Susan and I am a packrat…hence why the garbage men now hate me…