Lists

My life is ruled by lists these days. Packing list, purchase list, expense/budget list, “to do” list, “people to call before I leave” list – it’s gotten kind of ridiculous. I measure each day’s productivity according the number of items crossed out, the number of times I seize my black pen and draw a thick line through the finished task. It’s such a satisfying feeling: One less thing to do! One step closer to France, to an organized life, to a greater sense of self-accomplishment. My achievement-driven heart beats faster with each new cross-off.

This morning I witnessed a regular ritual in the Woodruff household: the Saturday morning list combination. Every Saturday after a breakfast of baked good and eggs of some description (this morning it was pumpkin muffins and scrambled eggs with garden vegetables), my parents “combine lists.” It’s gotten more and more comical as the years progress. My mother’s handwriting was never very legible, but now even she can’t read it because her late-middle-aged eyes are no longer up to snuff. She seems to forget this every time, however, and tries to read the list without her glasses, pushing herself back from the table in order to hold the piece of paper at a readable length from her eyes. But once it’s a full arm’s length away, the paper is too small. Her right arm comes up in indignation and she reaches back to the counter to find her glasses. My father then removes a pair of spectacles from his freshly-gelled head of hair, and the two begin comparing chores, errands, and weekend projects. What emerges is far too long for any two people to complete in two half-days of work, but each Saturday they set about cleaning the kitchen and tackling the lists with the same vigor.

Coming from such master list-makers, my small obsession seems easy to understand. So I will continue, in these last few days in the States, to add and remove items from my list. I love the concrete nature of a task scribbled down and scratched off; it's my one sense of certainty as I move closer and closer to my vague dream - living in France.