tinybadger
- Originally from: fayetteville
- Currently residing in: bonertown, arkansas
- I've been on arkansasrockers since the beginning of time.
- Last updated on Feb 1, 2010 at 11:48AM
tinybadger has 8 recipes in the cookbook - show me
In General
“FREE STUFF”
Lately
My mother and I just had this conversation:
Camilla: *sigh* I just keep thinking about all of the micro-tragedies in the bird world.
Me: What…are you talking about?
C: Well, I just saw this big chunk of ice fall off a tree outside and I was thinking, ‘What if there was a little bird perched on the branch below?’ It would be like a miniature version of J.B. Hunt. (thoughtful pause) Except there wouldn’t be any tiny ambulance to come roaring up with little bird EMTs to put the little guy on a wee stretcher and rush him off to the hospital.
Me: Wow.
C: What would the bird hospital be called? Suet Memorial?
Me: Kinda flat.
C: Peckerwood General Hospital?
Me: I’m pretty sure that’s racist.
C: (defensively) What does Peckerwood mean?
Me: I can’t remember if it’s a black guy or a white guy. It’s on that Richard Pryor sketch.
C: It’s gotta mean a white guy, so then it’s not racist.
Me: *sigh* Whatever.
(This illustrates a glaring truth about my life. I must get the fuck out of here soon. I have a horrible glimpse of my future and it’s very Grey Gardens-y. I’m already more stylish than my mom.)
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Are we talking about wacky grandma names? I don’t get on here very much. Mine were Grandmama and Granddad until that young upstart Alana came along and changed them to Mammy and Dad-Dad. But I think Leigh Wood takes the cake with Bee-Bob and Daddy Rat.
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So, on the art of getting rid of things…I’ve never considered myself a hoarder, just a pack rat. Pack rat is the preferred, polite term in the hoarder community, I think. While my house is very navigable and sanitary and I don’t hoard trash or duct tape or kittens, I know I have too much shit and stuff. With the view of moving in the next few months, I might have to approach the task of streamlining my belongings with a more measured, rational outlook than I am normally comfortable with. I am my mother’s daughter in more ways than I’d like to admit. That said, I’m not living in a crazy fantasy world where I have no faults and constantly revise recent histories to suit my needs. I am less like my mother than I beat myself up about. The thing I am most afraid of is her being around during the streamlining process, her hovering over my shoulder shouting, "OH HONEY, NO!! Give me that! I want it!! Don’t get rid of that, don’t you dare!!" That scenario has played out more times than you can imagine. I have a limited number of things that I plan on giving her, that she really does need to keep (her father’s desert pastels, her modigliani bust, etc) but I need a way to keep her away from my process as much as possible. With as little drama as possible, because we sure can ratchet up the drama FAST together. Moving is stressful enough. Does anyone have any ideas? Tips on Mature Mother Management? Tips on eliminating too much shit and stuff before a move?