Packrat

packrat
noun
1.	a collector of miscellaneous useless objects
2.	any of several bushy-tailed rodents of the genus Neotoma of western North America; hoards food and other objects As I've already mentioned, I am a packrat. Except for the bushy-tailed rodent part, both definitions of the word fit me. My cupboards, closets, crawl spaces and refrigerator are all equally overwhelmed with what I can't throw or give away. For instance, I decide I want to teach myself how to make dosa, an Indian snack made with rice and urad flours. (They are a snack in Indian; here they are a 3 lb. meal). I live far from an ethnic grocery so I buy three bags of each. Three years later, one of each is in the refrigerator and two of each are in the freezer. I've made dosa maybe three times. I'm going to pack it though and move it 2.5 miles up the road. My other problem is that I have a lot of beautiful things that are broken--cracked, chipped, nicked or otherwise damaged. I either inherited them that way or if they were in perfect condition when acquired, I managed to take a chunk out of them. I don't even feel as though I'm clumsy. These things happen mysteriously when I am out of sight, but I still hang on to the collectibles. Someone else should be the judge of that. I think you all might agree that the following is an example of something best bestowed on a local thrift shop. I picked it up free at work from a friend who was moving to CA. I hear she might come back this way. Perhaps I should give it back. But that would require moving it. So the first vote on this blog is yea or nay for the chipped, faux majolica appetizer tray.

Family Week

Where I Live -- For the Moment

I took off from work today. I've been doing this randomly lately out of extreme anxiety. My fear is about the near future when a large moving van takes up half the street during a busy tourist season to cart my belongings over town lines. There are many problem scenarios rattling around in my brain.

I live in the middle of Provincetown, a unique, quirky, theme-filled place with narrow streets, houses nipping at each other's shingles, uneven brick sidewalks that can't contain the throngs that roam them. Picture one of the video shots of Beijing with the mobs of pedestrians, the bicycles, the taxis, right down to the rickshaws. Throw in a trolley and cops on Segways and you have my little town. 3 miles long and 3,000 year round residents. Summer comes and we're looking at 60,000 people a day.

Now picture an 18 wheeler trying to maneuver through this. It requires renting police officers to oversee the ordeal. An 18 wheeler set in one place on this street, the main street, could stop production of meals in over 60 restaurants because the food purveyors can't get through with the day's goods. And everyone will know I caused the loss of thousands of dollars income that was going to help them survive the wickedly cold, desolate, gray winter.

Fortunately, it's family week now. And I don't have to worry about my semi running over anyone in a stroller or wearing balloon hats that don't resemble animals, though the guy sitting in front of town hall who makes these confections thinks he's a wizard at it. No, what I have to worry about is two weeks from now. Two small weeks. Now really less than 14 days. That is when Carnival Week is held. Carnival Week, free beads, lots of body parts showing, lots of floats, and one day when an estimated 100,000 people stand in the streets, hang from balconies and rooftops, and garner choice seats in the front windows of restaurants to watch a slow extravaganza. Carnival. My nemesis week. My moving week.

Why am I doing this now? Let's say it's time to move on. Let's say someone doesn't love you anymore and you need to git along little doggie. Let's say someone bought you out. Let's say you just need it to be over.

So I took the day off. I am surrounded by 44 boxes filled with books, crystal, and china. And I haven't scratched the surface of packing. And I can't give the mover an estimate on the number of boxes because I can't imagine how much more I have to do...alone...during the busiest work time of the year.

On a happier note, I'm enjoying a particularly good relationship with Lilly Pharmaceuticals. In the coming days, when I have a spare moment, I will be posting photos of objects that I should or should not take with me. Coming from a family of packrats, I can't tell anymore what I should pack and what I should leave behind. Admittedly, I've packed too much already. Feel free to be harsh and tell me to get rid of things. Like that carton of Everyday Foods that I already packed, or the issues of Martha Stewart Living carefully placed in matching blue magazine holders.

In my mind, my future has a spartan, antique Swedish aesthetic to it. So far, it doesn't look hopeful.