• one green rain jacket. no longer waterproof. or even particularly water-resistant.

• one pair of pants. why do i even own a pair of size 2 pants?
• a bag of tiles and magnets. hidden on top of the refrigerator, with the late dog's collar and a less-than-stellar report card.
• a stool. deemed unbreakable by my mother, who may not have anticipated the virulence of our vertical maneuverings.

• eight placemats. not quite washable enough.
• one paintbrush. crappy!

• five novels. four of which i did not finish.

• a remote control. no television to control.
• sunscreen. this will undoubtedly be past its usefulness when we finally see the sun again.
• a pair of toe-separator things. one would think we practiced pedicures here weekly.
• a bunion imitator thingy. an extra.
• a ring that must once have been a useful part of...something.

• a purple glass vase. i feel like i've thrown this away before...
• fascinatingly-shaped rubber gasket. for the shelley bag.
• plastic eyedropper. i rarely find myself in need of an eyedropper.
• the cloth case for my new earbuds. in the running for most ridiculous accessory to an accessory.
• a dress. the only dress i will ever own which i could wear braless. but do not. ever.

• three pairs of socks. holey, stretched and frayed, they should have gone long ago. which has not kept me from wearing them.

• seven soft-drink flavored lip balms. not technically mine to toss, but they have cluttered up my favorite yellow bowl for going on two years.

• a paint roller. some things really aren't worth fixing.
• a tiny crappy plastic ball. undoubtedly destined to become a part of the floating plastic island.
• a lint roller. i embrace lint!
• one dwell magazine. who are those people with their clutter-free homes?
• one sunset magazine. "cozy fall weekends" are so three months ago.

• a bar of soap, painted, with an army of headless matches stuck in it. satanic ritual? pet hedgehog?
• five brown glass jars. so useful! so unused.

• silicone frog beak. hand puppet? potholder? useless?
• defining gel. for hair. of which i have very little.
• homemade spider trap. dead spider included.
• felting needle case. why are tiny boxes so irresistible?
• creepy children's book. well, obviously.

• two lovely sweaters. for one lovely friend.
• one ball. for juggling? misshapen, might mess up your timing.
• one cd. provenance unknown, now downloaded.
• one track jacket. old school, adidas, stained, but someone will be thrilled to find it at the thrift store.

• one zip drive. zapped.
• two sets of arty postcards. the touristy ones are the only ones worth sending.
• one small pad of paper. scraps are so much more appealing.
• one tiny potholder. designed to fit over the handle of a skillet, and would be very useful if i ever remembered to use it.

• a black sweater. so i only wore it once. five bucks, not so bad.
• a pair of reading glasses. my fourth-best, barley held together with safety pins.
• a clay cup. might inspire me to be sentimental if i could remember which child made it.
• a paperback. part of an art project which has fallen by the wayside.
• three shopping bags. some people keep these, and seem to find them useful.

• that green raincoat. because i got a brand new beautiful grey one.
• two t-shirts. you would think i would be fresh out of t-shirts, but they keep rolling in.
• two books. neither of which i loved.

• a plastic i.d./reward card. these things seriously piss me off.
• a whole lot of bank statements. that shredder was a good investment.
• a tiny broken teapot. for which i will surely get in trouble, if caught.

five more books. there will always be five more books.

a small cat.
a small rabbit.
a very small dog.
a very small seal.
a very small lizard. volume isn't everything.

• a pile of plastic bags. not so necessary now that i no longer have a dog.
• a book. frida kahlo for first graders. brilliant.
• three paint brushes. we have a lot of paint brushes.
• a piece of hardware. part of a doorknob?
• a box of stationery. wish we used more of this.

• one jar of polyethylene glycol. you would throw it away too.
• one cookbook. i know it's probably sacrilegious, but i get all my recipes from the internet.
• one cloth wine carrier. if were to buy twelve bottles at once, they would come in a nice cardboard box.
• two more books. i belong to the greatest library system in the country.

• five more books. it gets harder as the shelves get lighter. i am determined that i will be the only book blogger on the web who does not actually own books.

• a t-shirt. with writing on it. never going to happen.
• a nightgown. worn to a literal rag.
• a cloth bag. a very nice, soft cloth bag. yup.
• an ice cream scoop. seriously, i buy ice cream twice a year.
• a very small notepad. i must stop taking these from hotel rooms.

• five more books. must keep striking while this iron remains hot.
• a picture frame. another case of put it up or put it out.
• a rock. surely other houses are not plagued by rocks in this manner?
• a magazine. snuck into the recycling while no one was looking.

• five more cds. honestly, gritting my teeth here.

• five cds. whittling away at that final, hard-to-let-go-of stack.

• five books. i do not have small children, i do not need shelves of books for small children, no matter how great they are. repeat, i do not have small children, i do not need...

• two flower pots. they seem to replicate when i'm not looking.
• three jars of vitamins. they only work when you swallow them.

• a shirt. which i love, but which does not look good on me. boo.
• a fleece headband. worn twice by one child.
• a pair of gloves. men's gloves. very large.
• two books. school book sale is coming soon!

• four books. one shelf left, then i can throw away the bookcase.
• a pair of tights. i thought i would rock the polka dots, but no.

• one tiny toothpaste.
• two tiny soaps.
• three tiny lotions. just because it's free doesn't mean you need it.

• one jacket. jackets are my weakness.
• one shirt. i just do not wear red.
• one tiny green chair. you know how something invested with fond memories seems very precious, then you realize that it's really junk? um, yes.
• one jump rope handle. i have no idea.
• one tube of lip glossy stuff. yuck.

• one large metal mixing bowl. and then there was one...
• one sports bra. which is not so helpful languishing in the bottom of a drawer.
• one picture frame. ugly.
• one pair of slippers. which have seen a lot of use.
• one growth chart. too late, we've been using the hallway wall for years.

• three ikea light bulbs. they do not seem to fit any lamp or fixture in this house.
• one plastic container. a great one, it housed a shirt. probably could be very useful. someday.
• a pair of pink rubber boots. that do not fit anyone who lives here.
• a gorgeous silk cushion cover. this has resisted many purging attempts on my part, but now it's time.

• five more books. kids outgrow fiction genres a little less quickly than skinny jeans, but outgrow them they do.

• one tablecloth. not so very lovely.
• one book on tape. actual cassettes; may as well be as eight-track or wax cylinder.
• one toy. multi-colored plastic beads that you melt into permanent useless toxic patterns. not as bad as it sounds.
• one cd. a childhood favorite of my child. now burned.
• orange mesh tube organizer. again, way better than it sounds. better get it out of the house before someone notices i've tossed it.

• one rock. a giant one that was (ma)lingering under the bed.
• three books. how on earth did the novelization of sabrina the teenage witch ever make it into this house?
• the stub ends of: a candle, a pencil, a clif bar.

• extraneous divorce paperwork. getting married is easier and requires fewer trees. more fun, too. though somewhat more expensive, in my case.

• one shirt. bad color for me, and it's sprouting a hole.
• skincare samples. blister pack nightmare.
• kid's book. more shelf space is not going to magically appear.
• kid's ski gloves. on to a smaller kid.
• rubber neon toy. i am annoyed that resources both natural and human were depleted to create this thing.

• extra earbud cushions. i assume there is a technical name for those.
• camera wrist strap. i think it's for a camera.
• ipod dock guard. again, guessing at the actual name.
• digital camera cd. not compatible with my operating system.
• printer cd. isn't everything online? electronics spawn many accessories of questionable value.

• my bank of america account. yes, bank transfer day was three months ago. i've been occupying a very busy life.
• one piece of kid art. the kid herself never really liked it.
• a bunch of ink cartridges. yes, they should be recycled. no, i will never remember to take them to the store with me.
• twelve erasers. disintegrating. only the pink pearls have longevity.
• three pencil grips. you will never have used one of these if you were born before 1990.

• five children's books. slam dunk.

• fifteen vintage nancy drews. none of us like nancy drew, they just look really cool.

• a blue towel. we have plenty of towels, but most of them are usually on various bedroom floors.
• a blue skirt. i just can't get the hang of skirts.
• a fantastic homemade new year's banner. put it up or put it out.
• two books. favorites, going to two favorite people.

• a bottle of makeup. wishful thinking.
• a bottle of theanine. not one of my essential aminos, apparently.
• a pair of pajamas. the easiest kind of clothing to keep around for too long. 
• a pile of dead ballpoint pens. one of which i picked up at a juneau hotel during my honeymoon twelve years ago. it outlasted my relationship by three years, though probably got less use.

• a rock. a very cool one, which i'm sure we will not miss.
• a tiny flower pot. recyclable? reusable? trash? rule one of throwing away: don't pretzel your brain over five ounces of garbage.
• another rock. seriously?
• reusable shopping bag. with holes. now less recyclable than either paper or plastic.
• a magazine. not mine, but i am stealthily reducing the community piles.

• a sweater. i feel like i've thrown this one away at least once before.
• a skirt. a one-season skirt, apparently.
• a cloth bag. these are ubiquitous if you have friends who buy really expensive shoes.
• paperwork. a packet of stuff that seemed important but is not.
• a poster. this was not mine, but we are all better for its absence.

• this year's course catalog for next year's high school. um, yes, useless.
• candle incense fusion mess. and yes, i am throwing it away, not recycling it, even though there is a glass somewhere in the midst of it.
• the extremely beautiful thank you card my aunt sent the kids. which was probably purchased in an exotic locale forty years ago. it has been enjoyed.
• three tubes of medication. for a condition i sincerely hope never to experience again.

• one pair snowboard boots. they don't get worn out when you only get to go a few times a year.
• rock. button. pencil sharpener. plastic craft needle. okay, they're small, but in the way.

• one metro card. the unused portion will be much more useful to a denizen of nyc than one of pdx.
• a bathing suit. kept past usefulness because the joy of finding a bathing suit that fit just right made the object precious beyond utility.
• a bag of clothing not accepted for resale by buffalo exchange. now i must give it away for free.

• a fleece sweater. once a favorite, not always a favorite.
• a fleece jacket. down to a single button and several safety pins.
• a chunk of plastic kickboard. lingering on a rarely used shelf.
• a random piece of metal shelving. ditto.
• the lame inner soles from my new ski boots. you'd think a pair of boots that retails for $500 would have decent arch support.

• two addresses. no longer needed (memorized) or wanted.
• one sweater. much loved, but no longer cutting the mustard.
• tired, outdated coupons. moving on...

• the notion that i could maintain stuff stasis for very long without daily purging. three months later it feels very crowded in here.
• returned: kid underwear in the wrong size. yes, she would grow into it someday...
• returned: first of two christmas presents purchased for my sister. second was much better.
• cracked plastic cd case. trash is trash.
• (small) stack of magazines. always a tricky temptation.