For those of you that remember Tassels, my alias for communication with an anonymous friend in prior years, rest assured Tassels lives on and has peacefully retired from her masterful and cunning reflections. She has some “junktivitis” but is otherwise doing well.
Tassels has been with me a long time and symbolizes multiple personality disorders of mine and thus, has become my notorious nemesis for various purposes throughout the years. Before I begin, let me start my saying that Tassels is a reflection of my childhood, adult years and parenting years. This statement is for those of you that may find it confusing as I jump around between past and present years.
It all started when I was younger and my brother rescued and brought home an embryo, of some unknown species, that had fallen out of a palm tree while camping. My mother became the unwitting surrogate for this mysterious creature. She would tend to the nurturing needs every few hours and even throughout the nights. In time, the embryo would begin to somewhat resemble that of a baby rat, skunk, raccoon… what exactly was it?
Another week would provide a positive identification of this mysterious creature… a baby squirrel. We named him Charlie. As Charlie matured, mom took him to the vet and had him neutered. She knew she would never be able to release him into the habitat from which he came and expect him to live. Once altered, Charlie became so fat, he would place his food on his stomach, as he proceeded to eat. As a result of Mom’s successful efforts, word got out and she suddenly became inundated with calls requesting assistance with rescuing / rehabilitation of orphan squirrels. The post cases were all successful and would result in release, when well. Some would return for a while but would eventually merge into the world of unknowns and independence.
While Charlie outlived any known record of squirrels living in captivity, a piece of my mother died when Charlie left this realm. She refused to dismantle the cages that were stacked in our kitchen for so many years. That day, she retired from accepting requests to foster squirrels, as the loss of Charlie was a devastating blow. My brother and I placed plants in the cages as an attempt to console my mother as she processed the grieving stages…until, one day she agreed to have my dad remove the cages to storage in the garage.
I would observe Charlie as mom let him out to exercise and scurry about the room with periodic bouts of resting on our shoulders. I would watch him hoard and hide his food as they instinctively do in the wild and I would watch Annie scold Booger (additional orphan squirrels) as she would go thru a Nesting phase, as nature intended. I would attempt to draw squirrel portraits while watching them. However, few were successful due to their restless behavior. While annoying creatures, they are nimble, curious and amusing animals that often times find themselves in compromising situations.
Unknowingly to me, Tassels was incarnated during the time of mourning the loss of Charlie. Tassels not only became my imaginary friend…but morphed into my nemesis.
As a direct descendant of my parents, I not only inherited my father’s hoarding abilities but I inherited my mother’s long, long lineage of rescuing/fostering animals. My father may argue that there is a method to his hoarding madness, called functionality, rather than collecting “dust catchers”. Now, you combine both genetics with my passion for creative arts…and you have a recipe for disaster!
Not only do I have a passion for collecting, animals and creating but I love a bargain along with the cliché that “one man’s junk is another man’s treasure. Also known as a “dumpster diva, I have been known to skid off the road should I spot a discarded item that I could potentially repurpose and bring back to life. While my dream was to become a designer, the universe had different plans for my career path. The silver lining is that I fulfill my long-lost dream with designing projects in and around the house…in other words, I RESCUE JUNK.
I remember some years ago, my daughters exclaimed, “so you are NOW decorating the yard, since you have run out of space inside”? My response was “yeah, I think we need a larger house…lol”! I have even been known to sneak my flea market treasures into the garage only to respond to a sudden discovery, “you are delirious…it has been there all along”! Never mind telling them I was storing my nuts for the winter…lol! The human girls would frequently ask me through the years if we could have a garage sale. Somehow, they seem to fancy the idea of getting things together, cleaning them, pricing them, getting the word out and sitting idle for a day while wasting “weekend warrior” time. My reply was always the same…”why would I want to enable new hoarders”? Secretly unloading thrifty finds in camouflage fatigues was far easier than getting rid of useless junk…and a lot more fun, I might add.
Tassels would emerge every so often…like when I was reminded of my hoarding tendencies with animals and junk alike. I would simply respond by saying I was the curator of my own passions and curiosities….I am a frugal explorer of junk. Besides I am an organized hoarder, unlike the reality show.
My glory almost came late last year as I pulled up to Goodwill when the phone rang. It was my mother on the other end…and like the start of most conversations, she would ask “what are you doing”? After a moment’s hesitation, I replied, “getting ready to go into “Goodwill”…empty-handed! She said…but you haven’t gone in yet…lol! Then, there are the occasional visits to Habitat for Humanity, which for a collector is like a drunk working in a bar.
There was actually an occasion when I went thru my clothes – a lot of which I have had since high school – to donate. I gathered up the bags and dropped them off at Goodwill. Several weeks later the youngest child and I returned to Goodwill for 30 minutes of browsing and I happened upon an item I donated a few weeks earlier. I thought to myself, why in the world did I give that away?! I tried it on with the same enthusiasm as I had when I tried it on 3o years ago. You guessed it… I bought it back! I guess once a pack rat, always a pack rat!
On a more positive note, there have been occasions at work when my “pack rat” tendencies have come in handy. There is always going to be an instance when you need to provide proof of an original quote, policy or procedure. Now, my filing would not meet rhyme or reason to just anyone…BUT…give me a few seconds and Voila, I can set the record straight. It ceases to amaze clients and colleagues alike that I can not only find what I am looking for in my office but I can also produce affidavit of prior communications….even 20 years prior.
Tassels would resurrect again as I stressed the importance to my daughters to always be yourself and that it was ok to be unique…as long as you were a law-abiding citizen finding your place in this world and discovering who you are as a person. As an introvert during my youth, Tassels would remind me that it was ok to be different as long as you were happy to be you. For an example, it was ok to wear plaid with leopard, leather with camouflage, using an old display of fuses as a centerpiece on your foyer wall, sporting the piercings and tattoos while society is busy catching up to your creative, whimsical free spirit.
While I have the independent, strong, responsible, studious daughter, I also have the carefree, creative daughter who does not necessarily conform to the same square box as other students. While very intelligent, the youngest preferred leaving love notes trails from room to room at night, freelancing in creative arts, preferring alternate schooling and reading my design books in her down time.
I have watched my girls transition thru the awkward – and often times frustrating – years of their youth to finding their place in this world, knowing that they are special and unique, while having the confidence to face the unknowns of this world. They have the comfort of realizing that they are individuals in their own right – not universal expectations – and that they each have their own unique gifts and talents to offer. “Have the confidence to wear those granny boots with that lace skirt if you so desire…BUT…be happy with your chosen path to achieve happiness and most importantly be courteous and kind to others as you climb the tree to your full potential”.
As Tassels prepares to return to her winter hunting and tend to her “junktivitis and junkerneck” (a form of rubber neck from years of stretching her neck to find roadside treasures), she would like to remind us that red squirrels are rare and unique and that it is ok to stand out from the over populated grey squirrel species…simply be you!
Dedicated to my daughters and anyone who dares to be a free spirit…
Homestead Memoirs 