A List of Things

I love minimalism when it means not having a lot of stuff. (I'm not so keen, I seem to recall, on minimalist art.) When B.A. was terribly sick four years ago, I read Marie Kondo's book and got to work throwing away possessions that did not "spark joy." B.A.'s CD collection did not spark joy, but as an act of wifely loyalty, I did not throw it away but instead filed it in shoe boxes in alphabetical order. I think I won an invisible Olympic Medal for Wifedom that day. 

Yesterday I clicked on Early Retirement Extreme (a minimalist's feast) to see which post had been recycled that day, and it was one about owning only 100 things. As the charity shops have been closed for months, and I missed the window they were open, our closets and my desk are an utter mess. Perhaps that's why I suddenly felt so amused and began to scribble a list of all the things I used that day. 

If you enjoy lists, you're welcome to read the list, minus the food. I don't think food should count as a possession, even though naturally it is good to have around. 

1. bathrobe

2. clock

3. kettle

4. French press

5. favourite mug

6. computer

7. computer remote keyboard (because of the state of the computer)

8. wooden board

9. big glass bowl (for dough)

10. wooden board (for kneading)

11. pen

12. paper

13. hand soap

14. hand towel

15. wellness journal

16. cereal bowl

17. spoon

18. kitchen scales 

19. kitchen sponge

20. water glass

21. bread tin

22. plastic wrap

23. bath towel

24. table

25. exercise clothes

26. cooling rack for bread

27. exercise bike

28. oven thermometer

29. Elizabeth David's bread book

30. bread knife

31. dinner knife

32. computer remote speaker (because of the st. of the comp.)

33. mobile phone

34. portable phone charger (Thank you, Nulli!)

35. day clothes

36. house phone (for remote Italian class)

37. Italian dictionary

38. Italian notebook

39. Carmelite brown scapular

40. pencil crayons

41. mobile phone cable 

42. remote speaker cable

43. dinner bowl

44. spoon

45. fork

46. chair

47. washing machine

48. oven with stove

49. laundry detergent

50. silver necklace with 2 pendants, one Scottish, one Polish

51. spectacles (Getting basic here.)

52. pack of playing cards

53. pair of dumb bells 

54. measuring spoons

55. liquid measuring jug

56. smaller glass bowl

57. pot with lid

58. 1.5 pint casserole dish

59. colander

60. tin opener

61. fridge with freezer

62. dishtowel

63. dishmatic (dish scrubber with tube of dishwashing liquid attached)

64.  knife for chopping vegetables

65. nightclothes

66. IKEA bag for laundry

67. toothbrush

68. sleep mask

69. pillow

70. bed with duvet, sheet, and blanket

71. hot water bottle

72. recycled squirt bottle/plant mist-er

73. spider plant

74. (forgot, although not at the time) Pears soap

So that's about it, short of the radiator, the kitchen counter, and the flat itself. I didn't list shoes because unfortunately I didn't go outside yesterday. Instead I read Polish, baked bread, had an Italian class over the phone, did my job over the computer, washed a load of laundry, ate a delicious Lenten dinner cooked by B.A., played whist, and then made a tuna casserole to put in the fridge. The gas men have come this morning and turned off the gas so that they may replace pipes without fear, so I had to prepare tonight's supper in advance. (The stove is gas, but the oven is electric.)

I enjoyed writing my list, so if you need a lift, you may get one from doing the same thing. Perhaps a daily practise of object-listing will lead to emptier, tidier homes across the decadent west. My chances of having a truly Japanese-style minimalist home are, however, zero, as Benedict Ambrose has a fatal lust for chairs, and if he were rich, he would collect nice furniture, first editions, and paintings.  

And I would hire a daily cleaner.

Time to read the next exciting page of Mulieris Dignitatem po polsku. I have never appreciated to this extent how repetitive it is. "Na obraz i podobieństwo Boga" (in the image and likeness of God) is now stamped permanently on my brain.