Joy List

There are certain people who love lists. I know this because I am one of them, and I know I am not alone because there are social media pages devoted to lists, there’s an entire sub-genre of journalism devoted to lists and I have a book titled Curious Lists: a creative journal for list lovers. If you are not a list lover, let me convert you.

Oh lists! How I love you, let me count the ways.

 

The first list I can accurately remember would be my Grade 1 spelling lists in Annie Doyle’s class at Guysborough Elementary School. In the beginning I was not fond of these lists; I am a horrible speller. But over time I grew to love them because it reduced the problem of spelling down to 10 words.

 

If you could remember 10 words for several hours; enough time to get to school and take the test, you would be a good speller. You would get a gold star rather than a withering stare. You would have achieved something through the use of the list.

 

And this is really what the first joy of list comes down to; achievement. The achievement can come from learning what is on a list or from crossing things off a list—either serves as motivation to action in pursuit of a goal.

 

I don’t have a spelling list anymore—although I probably should – but on good days, I have work lists, chore lists and grocery lists. They all bring me delight and fulfillment.

 

Work lists are essential. I easily forget evergreen stories I have pitched and have set aside until a later date for when breaking news is less likely to fill a newspaper.

 

When I need to make sure the editor has received all my stories, I need a list to make sure I have not forgotten to send one; that has happened. I have looked at the first draft of the paper and wondered where my article was only to find I hadn’t sent it.

 

I need work lists to provide a starting point as I sit down at my desk in the morning. What emails do I need to send, what research needs to be done, what phone calls need to be made. Without lists my work life would fall apart.

 

At home I need chore lists to make sure the bills get paid, the floor gets vacuumed and the kids get picked up or dropped off when needed. I did forget to pick a kid up at school once, but not my own, so that was worse.

 

I also need lists to make sure I attend meetings on time. There’s nothing I hate more than people who are late. I am always early for everything unless I am absent; having forgotten the meeting. Last weekend I missed a meeting—I had not written it on a list.

 

And then of course there are grocery lists. Any nutritionist will tell you that you need a grocery list—without one you might as well go to the store burn your money and give yourself scurvy and rickets because your diet is so poor.

 

Grocery lists have become even more important this past year as we have reduced our number of shopping trips to once a week due to the pandemic and the desire to reduce exposure to the virus. For once a week shopping, you need a list.

 

Last year I came up with a life hack for grocery lists, to reduce the likelihood of losing your list and making it easier to follow in the store; write the list on a discarded enveloped cut it at both ends and wear it as a bracelet. If you use this method, you’ll never lose your grocery list again, but that would make me sad—bringing me to the next part of my joy list; the lists of others.

 

I love finding lost lists. They are so interesting; an anonymous doorway into other lives. Yesterday I found a list wet and bleeding ink onto the sidewalk, discarded in front of the post office. It was on a small rectangular piece of paper, torn precisely on one side, containing a short column of only three items: Cat stocking, dustpan, Lg. bag. What would you make of that?

 

The paper was neatly folded into eighths and the list was written in a fine hand in blue ink on the first quarter length.

 

Lost notes bring out my inner Nancy Drew.  Is the note handwritten or printed, in pen or pencil, on fresh or recycled paper, in one hand or multiple? There’s a lot that can be intuited in such a note.

 

Unfortunately, there are fewer lists to be lost these days; even before anyone has a chance to adopt my list loss defying life hack—the reason, smart phones of course. One more joy technology has unexpectedly erased from modern life.

 

If I thought a bit harder, I might come up with more lists that I love, but at this moment, the last on my list of comments about lists is the book list; those that we want to read and those we have already read. Again, I need both types. I can hardly remember what books I read last month let alone last year which is why I need a ‘have read’ book list. Without it, I start to read mysteries and think I am especially clever only to realize halfway through that I have already read the book.

 

December is one of my most favourite months, not only because I am a Christmas fanatic but because an avalanche of year end book lists are released at that time. And those are my most beloved of lists. They’re full of excitement, opportunity, adventure, and most certainly joy.

 

Lists in their multitude of forms, keep me on track, function as a reward chart, and provide fodder for creative thinking. 

Lists, what would I do without them—not much because I would have forgotten what I had meant to do.