When I was a kid, we moved a lot. It's the life of a family with a career military man at the head of the household. How much did we move? I ran through the list of primary and secondary schools which I attended before I went into the Air Force, and we counted thirteen. Now, I'll grant that some of that is the fact that you change schools into junior high and high school, but still... That's a lot of mobility.
What's that got to do with me being a packrat? I'm getting there.
When we were making all of these moves, we were limited to the amount of stuff we could drag with us. They take a look at the rank of the military member in the family and put a weight allowance on it. Clearly, the bulk of that weight allowance went to important stuff like furniture, appliances, and the like. We kids were given the "before we move, take a look through your stuff and see what can be pitched/donated/whatever." Decisions were made, and some stuff went off to the great PCS (no, not Sprint's cell service... Permanent Change of Station. It's an Air Force term) pile o' detrius.
Since then, I've still moved quite frequently. Since 1988, I've lived in ten different apartments or houses. I think we brats wind up with some sort of nomad gene turned on that doesn't necessarily live in civilian kids. Clearly since I've had ten homes in twenty-one years, I've had to move "stuff." I had friends and family help me move some of it, but let's be honest here... Since I wasn't paying for a mover, nor was DoD, I don't really look too hard at what the hell I've got before moving it. I've actually had boxes move, unopened, more than once.
Every once in a while, though, I find something that I honestly had no clue I had. Earlier this week, I found the senior class tee shirt from high school. What with me weighing in at a less than hefty 145 pounds when I graduated high school and currently weighing about eighty pounds more than that, I did not bother to even make an attempt at wearing it. It was cool to look at the list of names on the back. All 53 of them. Hey, it was a small school.
Sometimes, being a packrat has its advantages. It's instant nostalgia.
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