Lists make my word go round or, at the very least, give me a false sense of security that my world is intact, that as may variables as possible have been tied down, placed in order to some degree, allowing me to manoeuvre (that's a really tough word to spell) through the dangerous waters of cooking or cleaning or the ever-perilous grocery shopping. I need lists because once I leave the house, step over either the front or back door threshold, my memory is wiped perfectly clean, without a trace or a hint of what I was headed for.
I arrive at the grocery store hopeful, excited, adventurous. I could have simply needed milk, my list stark and bare save that one item. Without a list, I wander around the grocery store gathering pomegranates (that will soften and eventually be laid to rest on garbage day), avocados, a writing journal (because one can never have enough of those). My healthy intentions flourish at the grocery store. I've always wanted to cook eggplant, if for no other reason than its remarkable colour. I intend to make gazpacho soup and eat dried cranberries. N0, no, no. The list keeps me and my bank account safe.
This time of year I make gift lists, my favourite of all lists. I prepare them on my computer, secured by my secret password from prying eyes. I use a green font for those things I've purchased and a red font for those I haven't found or that may be subject to reconsideration. I refer to my list at least once daily and feel the excitement of Christmas wiggle in me with the sense that this will be the best Christmas ever.
While I was out for my run this morning (well, I did run 53 steps which is exactly 3 more than yesterday so that qualifies as a run), I got to thinking about my favourite gifts over the many past years. I got some grand ones and some curious ones but the one I remember is a fluorescent study lamp when I was about thirteen. When I built a nest in my bed out of
pillows and blankets, the light made me feel creative and safe, as if I was the only soul on earth, a lovely feeling when one isn't really alone at all.
My most precious gifts are easy to list:
- an unexpected hug from my teen-ager (which almost all hugs are - unexpected)
- a daughter running in the door with a breathless account of some experience, with the words best day ever mixed in
- a kiss on the back of my neck while I did dishes
- my father exclaiming what an amazing rhubarb pie I had made for him while he tried to saw through the crust with subtle strength
- someone I love uttering the words in an almost prayer-like tone, I need you
- a hug when I don't know how to ask for one
- friends showing up to help me move without being asked, bearing lasagna and wine
- the sound of my daughters getting along, their laughter floating in the window and settling over me like a warm blanket
- sunshine in November
None of these things can be wrapped with pretty paper and ribbon, but they are the things that matter most.
by W A Stewart, Nov 27/09
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I love lists too, for all the reasons you listed. (couldn't resist)
ReplyDeleteI have a list of my favourite books and favourite movies. I sub-categorize them: favourite fiction books, favourite non-fiction; movies by genre. Of course, there's a list of my favourite music of all time; naturally, there is a sub list for classical, western, and the rest. I have a list of places I have been and things I have seen which is contrasted to the list of places I have never been (but want to visit) and things I would like to do. I love crossing them off, too.
There is a list of celebrities I have seen in aiports. The last two I saw were Ben Mulroney (does he count?) and Andre Rieu. I kept a list of all the veal chops I had while traveling on business; same with steak places. Decadent list. I have a list of favourite quotes; a handy thing, I think.
I have a list of things that really irritate me in case I forget that they irritate me.
Lists bring structure to our lives. We can build things with the solid nature of those lists because they define us, our goals and dreams.
I have list of 'moments' in my life too. My number one moment is July 19th, 1970, my first kiss. In my top 10 there is the birth of my sons. The day I shot a deer. The death of a co-worker's baby. The day I scored my first goal in hockey against "East End." The smell of cooking onions and perogies. A harvest moon beyond description. The day I published a book. And another kiss, in a barn, many years ago.
I keep my lists in a moleskin book. I am certain Hemingway did too. And when the book gets filled, I transfer the list into a new moleskin.
I know that if anyone asks about these things I have a ready source. I can give them this information without delay. I know they'll be in awe.
So far, no one has asked but I am ready if they do.
I love your lists. Thanks for sharing.
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