True story: the packrat and the Packrat

[labelleizzy]

My dad died at the end of April, twenty years ago in about two weeks.

Recently I've been reflecting on life with him, and life without him.

After he died, Mom sold the house we'd grown up in. The yard sale paid for the moving van, and got rid of lots of extra stuff; furniture, record player, vinyl records, duplicate china. But Mom and I were still packrats.

She and I moved from that 5 bedroom house to a three bedroom house, where we dedicated one of the three bedrooms and most of the garage to storage. We were mostly storing crap, as I can freely admit at this distance.

We come by our packrattitude honestly in my family. Both Mom's parents were raised during the Great Depression and slogans included "we'll fix it later!" and "don't you dare throw that away, you're going to want it!" Every house had multiple junk drawers, and piles of stuff in closets and garage.

The "guest room" of this rental house was crammed full of boxes, bags and piles of my "craft crap". There was some stuff in there which might have been useful, if I could ever have located the treasure among the trash. Do you ever think, "man, I know I have this tool/supply/fabric/colored marker in my stash, but I just can't FIND it," so you buy another whatever it is?

Can't count the number of times I bought duplicates of things I already owned. Embarrassing to think of now.

Anyway, the house itself was decent, if dated (1970's ceramic tile floor in living room and kitchen, yo) and a little chilly in autumn and winter. It had an in-ground fish pond and some space to garden and hang out in the back yard. Sometimes we had visits from local wildlife. Once I was walking to the kitchen to start the coffee and saw a white crane as it took flight out of the fish pond, and once a skunk tried to come into the house seeking dog kibble.

But the most mysterious visitor was inside the house. It took us a few weeks to realize what was happening, in spite of finding gnawed electrical cords more than once and little dark pellets scattered at the corners and edges of rooms.

The epiphany hit us one evening when I went into the craft crap storage room and found tufts of ... dog hair? but dog hair of the wrong color. Our dog was Captain, a tiny black Pomeranian. Our first dog had been a tan and brown Pomeranian named Montana, and my little brother had saved up a bag of her hair before she died ...

Wait. There's the bag, how did it get...

chewed open

Dammit. *shudder*
We had a rodent in the house.

Immediately started sorting through my entire stash, grieving damaged goods I had always "meant to do something with" or "couldn't bear to give away", and tossed them in the trash. Sent bags of unwanted but undamaged fabric to the communal sewing stash for my Renfair friends, and took several boxes to Goodwill, including the hideous latch-hook rug project in white yellow orange and olive that I started when I was eleven and never finished.

Mom called an exterminator, and they brought something I didn't know existed, sticky traps. We had at least one sticky trap in each public room. A few days later I discovered a rat, deceased, under the living room table. It was stuck to the sticky pad, partially atop the electrical cord to the lamp, which was also stuck to the pad. Mom was a trouper, and sorted the mess out. This involved breaking the leg of the rodent to detach the sticky pad from the cord.

I didn't have the cojones to do this; she did.

She threw the rat and sticky mess into the trash bag and the trash bag into the trash bin, while I made disgusted noises and felt faintly guilty at making my widowed mother do it.

Mom always sorted our messes out.
Mom has always been awesome.

This has been my week 5 entry for therealljidol and the prompt was "A Better Mousetrap".

Please go read and enjoy my colleagues' entries here. To vote for my entry, link will be *here*

Thank you for reading!

Comments

[x-disturbed-x.livejournal.com]

I would expect my mom to handle something like that as well. Whenever she's over I still ask her to kill bugs for me!

[labelleizzy.livejournal.com]

Nowadays I *probably* would be able to Woman Up and do the distasteful thing. A lot has changed in twenty years.

[seakittym.livejournal.com]

I don't think I could ever do that. I'm a very... I don't know. I have nine cats. If they catch a mice/rat, I rescue it and release it outside. We rarely see mice around here. I suppose they know better than to come inside, most of the time.

We were mostly storing crap, as I can freely admit at this distance.


I know that feeling. My mom has this bizarre collection of old printers/scanners. It's crap, Mom.

[labelleizzy.livejournal.com]

Mom still stuffs her closets and cabinets with enough STUFF for three households. *headshaking*

I still have to fight the acquisition tendency, to remember that stuff is meant to be used.

[solstice-singer.livejournal.com]

I hate rats. I've been very lucky not to have any enter my home, but my partner tells me horror stories of rats she has encountered.

[labelleizzy.livejournal.com]

For me the nightmare is roaches. I lived in student slums in college *shudder*

[inflectionpoint.livejournal.com]

I am glad you had a mother like that. Mine...

We lived in filth. They were hoarders. There were vermin.

I moved out when I was 17.

I returned for my grandmother's funeral and listened to my mother burbling with joy about her new kitchen and her new laundry room and her beautiful things and I felt nothing but pure hatred for her.

Not one word to say, I'm sorry I raised you in filth your entire childhood. Not one word to say, I'm sorry I did nothing for you. Not one word to say, I'm sorry I made you parent me when you were still a child.

I can and have done damn near everything, because noone can be bothered to care about me enough to do things for me.

I wish I'd had a mom who'd have done that for me.

Good writing.

[labelleizzy.livejournal.com]

My mom became very handy around the house because my dad didn't have either the skill set or inclination to do home repairs, except very occasionally. But I think you and I have talked a bit about this.

I am sorry your grownups sucked. And that they have lacked/still lack sufficient awareness of their failboatiness to make amends with you.

Thank you for commenting, truly.

[kajel.livejournal.com]

Mom always sorted our messes out. This was great. Nicely done.

[labelleizzy.livejournal.com]

Thanks. *sigh* she finally started being able to live her own life and make all her own decisions when my dad died. He was 54, she was 53. Now she largely does what she wants, and mentioned just today that she's "spending your inheritance, you know!" I verbally eyerolled and smiled at her.

[roina-arwen.livejournal.com]

I have much the same craft/crap problem, LOL.

[labelleizzy.livejournal.com]

Oh my god that icon is so PERFECT

[roina-arwen.livejournal.com]

LOL. It's sort of what I do, ya know! ;)

Rats of Two Kinds

[penpusher.livejournal.com]

I like the concept of how the rat actually did something that ultimately was good!

And yes, a lot of Americans have an issue with "packrat" mentality. I'm sure that part of it is in the space available. If you don't have much room, you aren't going to keep a lot of extrys! But another part is in preserving the past? Or the thought of that...

Nice entry!

Re: Rats of Two Kinds

[labelleizzy.livejournal.com]

Certainly for me part of it was preserving this past. As the only crafty person in my generation on that side of my family, I wound up with all mom's sewing stiff AND all grandma's sewing stuff, atop e what I'd squirreled away during childhood and adolescence.

I didn't feel I had the right to chuck it out, to be honest.

I also think that I imbibed early the idea that if you'd like to be happy, and you aren't, the solution is More Things Please!

Took awhile to unlearn that one.

Re: Rats of Two Kinds

[penpusher.livejournal.com]

On that thought, there really isn't an easy way of getting rid of stuff.

On one hand, there's the issue of it being valuable to you, and then trying to sell it dime on the dollar at a site like eBay or something.

And then there's just the dumpster.

The "perceived value" of things really adds a level of attachment that makes them that much more difficult to release. And not knowing the value of such stuff makes people more reluctant to toss it. That painting that sold at a yard sale for 7 dollars? It was a genuine Matisse! That ugly poster had an original copy of the Declaration of Independence hidden underneath it.

You might be discarding a fortune! (but probably not). But the sentimental value means something?

I have a box with the fall preview issues of TV Guide dating back to the 1970s I think? Of course, nobody cares about TV Guide today, and they barely care about TV! And I have a few other things like that, but I don't have the space!

Re: Rats of Two Kinds

[labelleizzy.livejournal.com]

Isn't there a museum of TV history somewhere? Ship those things OFF.

I had to learn I could give myself permission to say "no" ... At all. But no with regards to unwanted stuff was actually easier than no to people... But it was part of the process.

My philosophy gradually became "have nothing in your home which you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful."

That grants permission explicitly to only select those things which are lovely and satisfying and to release the rest to someone else who can use it, or permission to throw it away.

I still have to remind myself sometimes that I'm worth it, the time it takes to throw junk out and to keep a nice house with only stuff I love and enjoy. The ongoing practice is worth it.

[jem0000000.livejournal.com]

Your mom does sound awesome. I have a tendency to smash bugs/spiders and run shrieking for my roommate, and she always tells me that I'm a Grown Woman and if I smash a bug I can clean the dead bug body up myself.

[labelleizzy.livejournal.com]

I agree with your mom!
Of course I kinda like spiders, they sort out mosquito and fly for me and I like those guys a lot less.

[catwomon.livejournal.com]

I WOULDN'T HAVE WANTED THAT JOB EITHER. HURRAY FOR MOMS, WHO DO THE THINGS WE CAN NOT DO!

[labelleizzy.livejournal.com]

My mom became a very competent brave lady. I'm proud of her.

[eternal-ot.livejournal.com]

I could relate to "don't you dare throw that away, you're going to want it!"...myself being a collector of craps...and yeah surely you have an awesome mom..:)

[labelleizzy.livejournal.com]

It's been a rough twenty years, learning how to believe that it's OKAY to throw out the broken, or even just the unwanted.

And now I've moved into a much smaller house. And so I've consolidated the stuff - that - is - crap into only a few boxes instead of a dozen or twenty... Like Flylady says, progress not perfection!