• five more children's books. but i love them!

• two small dinosaurs. the jurassic period is almost over here.
• a magnetic metal bookmark. in this item, simplicity is more valuable than innovation.
• a tiny metal sculpture incorporating an alligator clip. if it were also magnetic i would have kept it.
• black suede boots. sexy, yet unworn. pointy and pointless.

• a little plastic box.
• a little metal box.
• a little paper box.
• a little cloth box.
• all put into a shoe box. and thrown away.

• a small portfolio of fifth grade art. but i frame the best ones.
• a tiny notebook. ubiquitous and so charming.
• one kids' book. i want to keep everything today.
• small blue vase. last of five, but finally.
• phone charger for the car. it is a tiny bit dangerous to get rid of these.

• three balloons. kind of a pointless toy, in the end.
• a coin of no nationality. talk about pointless.
• a pipe-cleaner pencil grip. innovative, but sharp.
• a pile of pencils. of limited value when eraserless.
• a pile of homework. of limited value generally.

• an embarrassing number of hotel shower accoutrements. i may be a hoarder.

• one tank top. done with ribbed tanks.
• two fake pearls. which is overestimating their charm.
• one very cute kid's apron. sadly underused.
• a tiny notepad. a curse on tiny notepads.

• five books. we will own only books we want to read.

• binder thesaurus. this is the genesis of the overstuffed binder
• binder dictionary. less used than carried.
• rubber gloves. who still uses these?
• l-glutamine. i don't know.
• calcium. i should probably take those.

• purple tape dispenser. buy refills. um. probably not.
• calculator. didn't know i had it. probably am not using it.
• reading materials from previous semester. barely got through them the first time.
• a shirt. whose time. has come.
• ten cds. the end is near.

• one shirt. i surrender. liking doesn't equal wearing.
• another shirt. loving also does not equal wearing.
• yet another shirt. this one barely counts, being a never-worn hand-me-down. still.
• and still one more shirt. which i wear but should not.
• one pair of socks. i just don't like them.

• a collection of string handles. i really can't come up with a better description.
• a finger-knitted blob. hot pink!
• a valentine. love, love, love
• a kids' magazine. i don't know if they read them, but they sure love to save them.
• a clear plastic box. i love boxes. so. much.

• a paper rocket. cool!
• textbook. old edition. one wonders where they all end up.
• another broken flashlight. i just want one that works.
• one map. i am unlikely to start bike commuting anytime soon.
• seven little rocks. she may be doing this on purpose.

• one ancient school workbook. be the work.
• a connect the dots book. we like the ones with words.
• gorgeous nordstrom jacket. but it was free!
• tessa's wedding shoes. love you, tessa.
• a bra. which goes with one single dress.

• a stash of paint sample cards. so...pretty...want...to...keep...
• a pair of winter boots. i honestly have no idea how these came to live in this house.
• one pair of glasses with no lenses. smuggled out of my daughter's room.
• a shower cap from the ritz. ditto.
• a practically unused pair of overall snow pants, child's size six. a warmer climate might be cheaper.

• two books. always with the books.
• a package of sewing machine needles. i am mystified.
• eleven cds. i didn't know i still owned that many cds.

• school pride badge. sorry.
• orange woven purse. when dress-up clothes threaten to take to the streets.
• two glass coasters. pretty. but not very good coasters.
• one spool of thread. one could last me a lifetime.

• one bottle eyeglass cleaning fluid. this seems like a fake product.
• photos of family furniture. that i own. 
• a plastic ruler. substandard straight edge.
• one whoopie cushion. well-used.
• a set of crayon/pencils. very nice, barely used.

• cool paper bowl. made by someone else's kid.
• a plastic folder. feeling very guilty about those plastic islands.
• one hat. i am hoping we are almost too old for dress up clothes. 
• a piece of hardware. from... something that apparently doesn't really need this piece to function.
• a flask. i guess i only need one flask.

• a lovely handmade photo album and a package of paper corners. i am amused that this once seemed like a project i might embark upon.
• a cabinet knob. undoubtedly intended for my sister.
• an eyeglass repair kit. how could i repair my glasses while not wearing my glasses?
• a christmas ornament. i need a house with higher ceilings.
• a scrunchy with lots of beads. hair ornament? bracelet?

• a gigantic pile of papers and magazines. from a box of mine that has been languishing in a friend's basement for years. hope there are no more of those out there.

• anxiety. this may last.
• eight rocks. i have taken to tossing them out the kitchen window.

• my favorite pair of jeans. if i do not throw these away, i will continue to wear them despite the growing rip in the crotch.
• five felted sweaters. the craft project that wasn't.
• one small felted sock. i can't bear to talk about it.

• a joker. a dashing, 70's era joker.
• crimping beads. from whence, i know not.
• a yellow vinyl purse. if i don't toss it, i will start carrying it.
• a striped canvas belt. very 1973.
• a pair of pants. good fit, nice style, great color. do not go with a single shirt, sweater or pair of shoes i own.

• one toy. possibly the only toy for which i have bought replacement batteries.
• one textbook. sold back to amazon while still relevant.
• three t-shirts. seriously, how many t-shirts can you wear in a week?

• two red picture frames. i bought these. insanity.
• a photo display system made up of paperclips, blackbirds and string. nifty.
• one cookbook. as though i go anywhere other than the internet for recipes.
• a patch for denim. useful, though not likely to be used.
• an orthopedic corset. it pains me to discard an item with such an evocative name.

• a babysitter training cd. mac and cheese, hide and seek, time for bed. done.
• pocket diary for 2010. no entries.
• remote control for discarded docking station. don't get me started on the amount of money i have spent on substandard technology.
• stuffed dog. ugliest toy ever made.
• huge pink pom-pom keychain. for this we have rendered the earth nearly uninhabitable.
• seven magazines. I should stop being shocked every time i find another stash.
• four books. outdated eventually becomes uninteresting.

• a pair of sunglasses. surprisingly effective, but one of possibly eight pairs in this house.
• small pink hippo. when did we become a household overrun with stuffed animals?
• the small bag that holds a fold-up umbrella. I am quite sure the umbrella will never fit back inside.
• a calculator. still in packaging. why does a calculator need packaging?
• a glass coaster/window ornament. made by me.                

• one slinky with ceramic face. toy?  sculpture? creepy? yes.
• a whiteboard eraser. you guessed it, no whiteboard.
• a plastic bracelet. utterly charmless jewelry ever made.
• a plastic egg. first drop of the tidal wave.
• one half-full box nag champa incense. truly, words fail me.

• six single socks. so sad.

• a pair of shoes. shabby shoes. dislike.
• a pair of socks. how can socks be uncomfortable?
• two washcloths. our washcloth inventory is excessive.
• a book, much beloved. borrowable.

• grammar and writing practice book. what? we're not using that?
• a stack of watercolors. process, not product.
• a small pink stuffed elephant. so much cuter than it sounds.
• a rubber duck. with a painted tartan hat. oddly creepy.
• a hairbrush. from shortage to overabundance.

• a small purse. sadly empty of cash.
• a painted wooden box. also empty of treasure.
• one shower cap. standard hotel issue.
• a lavendar-filled pillow. more relaxing when not clutteringup an unopened drawer.
• one scarf. pretty, but.

• a cloth. for polishing? so soft....
• one paper kite. well-engineered.
• one twisted length of copper wire. purpose unknown.
• a plastic die. downscale version of the magic eight-ball. 'ask again'
• set of three plastic measuring spoons. you can estimate the quarter teaspoon.
• a piece of white ribbon. too short to be useful.
• one change purse. if we had a dollar for every money container we own...

• a pair of black pants. bought a replacement, forgot to ditch the originals. 
• plastic parachute guy. one-time fun.
• a rubber ball. filled with glitter and a flashing light. so cool i almost kept it.
• two hand towels. only somewhat handy.

• three-hole punch. definitely worth paying for quality on this item.
• cell phone case. owned by many, used by none.
• plastic eraser case. move over, banana slicer, a less useful object has been found.
• an extra corkscrew. not a bad extra to have, actually.
• mardi gras beads. lots of them. the possible culprit of the global warming debacle.

• a pair of toy boxing gloves. where do i begin?
• one splint. let's be optimistic.
• last year's ski passes. i wish i were skiing.
• one fish magnet. so large that it obscures that which is posted.
• a small plastic cup. remarkably indestructable.
• another magazine. i swear they breed.
• two picture frames. i blame ikea.
• five pieces children's art. there is more where that came from.

• one magazine. stowaway on the picture book shelf.
• five dvds. will anyone notice if i ditch them all?

• one green pinwheel. top? plastic junk either way.
• one red flashlight. it does not work. i'm accepting that.
• one film camera. nice in its day.
• two allen wrenches. ubiquitous before ikea?

• a bag of ikea hardware. slightly worrisome when there are leftover screws.
• an origami crane. clearly replaceable.
• a strip of black fabric. possibly a witch costume remnant.
• a pair of black socks. the only uncomfortable black socks from a curated collection. also the only ones not stolen by my progeny.
• a large bunch of dried oregano. oregano is sadly underrepresented in our diet.

one cosmetics case with a broken zipper. filled with:
three pipe cleaners.
two cloth flowers.
a broken ring.
two rubber bands.
a pencil.
two candy wrappers.
a pencil sharpener.
a peer counseling guide. all snuck into the garbage while my daughter wasn't looking.

• one piece kid art. sweet, but not memorable.
• two magnets. useful, but not pretty.
• two. more. rocks. i am not making this up.

• spray nozzle. ancient work-related gear that i would like to forget about.
• a mop/broom hook bracket. maybe if i keep it for another five years i will install it. ha.
• an orange plastic bracelet. if it ends up in the dryer it is mine.
• a 'jewel'. ditto.
• a badge featuring a chipmunk. beaver? hedgehog? i left my glasses in the other room.

• nine rocks. i could devote an entire blog to the rocks.
• a flamboyant green purse. which seemed possible in p.r. but isn't in portland.

• a pile of red felt. yeah, that project is going nowhere.
• one mac laptop. old faithful. then not.
• two polar bear place mats. reality trumps sentimentality.
• one magnet. save the date for a date long past.

• five unmentionables. out with the old, in with the new.

• headband. don't ask
• cd. so done with this technology.
• gorgeous leather address book/calendar. it is sad when new ugly new technology replaces beautiful old technology. but there it is.
• length of nylon webbing. fin. al. ly.
• binder ring. yes, i am in a hurry.

• three books. there is always one more extra book.
• one bedsheet. potentially useful items, bedsheets.
• one ladle. a single ladle should be adequate for a household that generally steers clear of soup.

• clay fairy painted by my child. the charm has moved on.
• jewelry box. what to do with those last residents?
• four books. digging deep now.

• four brown bottles and an oval stone. beck tribute.

• a belt. even one belt is one too many.
• a magazine. a rogue.
• three books. the bedroom bookcase looks anorexic.

• a huge pile of paper. livin' in the cloud: bon jovi for the new millennium.

• four crayons. yes, i could have reunited them with their pack, but that would involve a flight of stairs.
• an ancient tutu. cannibalized for art projects.
• two curtain rings. it is unlikely that i will lose any of the ones that are in use.
• a papier mache ball. unfinished.
• a handmade paper flag. dominion unknown.
• six socks. the basket overfloweth.
• a children's book. which cost 85 cents in 1958.
• elmo visits the doctor dvd. a huge favorite about seven years ago.
• one t-shirt. last remnant of a former relationship.
• throw pillow. cheap is cheap.
• narrow paint roller. one of two: the other is on the chopping block.
• canvas book bag. well-designed, but still never used.
• shoe box. on the fence about whether this actually counts, but it is leaving nonetheless.
• large steel brush.
• tiny steel brush. only a portion of the steel brushes i own.

• five books. only a handful of grown-up books left.

• blue corduroy jacket. misguided purchase.
• aluminum tin. unreasonably awesome.
• origami how-to book. we are overrun with origami gear.
• pocket guide to bugs and slugs. i love this when i find it in the bottom of my drawer.
• dvd of fifth grade macbeth production. i am going to mama hell.

• two plastic spatulas. free with purchase.
• two pairs of shorts. unworn shorts. stylish shorts. lovely shorts.
• one small yellow silicone rolling pin. hands down my cutest kitchen implement.

• a black shirt. the inadvisability of owning a shirt that can only be worn under something...
• a three-hole punch. the binder kind. inferior.
• twine. cheap twine. plastic twine.
• six rocks. seriously, enough with the rocks in the house.

• one metal trash can. i admit it. i like the plastic one better.
• one wool hat. tragically felted.
• two strings battery-operated christmas lights. unused for years.
• one lunch bag. freebies just aren't that great.

• one shirt. seriously, i do not own very much clothing.
• one tiny tube of lotion. note to self: please stop taking these from hotel rooms.
• one nearly empty jar of nail polish remover. i am glad that i buy organic meat at a million dollars a pound only to have my daughter practically bathe in this stuff.
• one dried up eyeliner. more contemplated than actually used.
• one tin of unidentified white powder. my children are still (a little) too young for this to be a discovery that gives me pause.

• glasses case. still on the fence about the glasses.
• eyeglass polishing cloth. though ubiquitous, these are truly never around when i need them.
• mother's day bookmark. sue me; it was not original artwork.
• piece of plastic. once part of... something.
• straw hat. how many ill-fitting straw hats does one family need?

• three more photo albums. careful curation.
• one book. left here by someone.
• one more dwell. sneaky.
• word search book. silly.

• mardi gras beads. an ecological nightmare.
• one package of straight pins. these are very cool.
• two packages of needles. we have apparently been mistaken for people who mend.
• one small beaded, sequined box. ornament. box.
• pumpkin carving patterns. a travesty.
• ancient egypt art kit. decorate your own tomb.
• a sewing tin. fake vintage.
• black costume sash. looks flammable.
• blue modelling clay. we are more about 2d.
• one bottle motor oil. inferior, apparently.

• a water bottle. a curse on the manufacturers of crappy water bottles.
• wallet magnifying glass. less useful than i had supposed.
• nearly gutted pillar candle. note to self: only buy votives.
• a dozen plastic rewards club cards. grrrrr.
• a zillion pieces of paper. only art and literature will be tolerated.

• four brown dresses. you've never seen me in a brown dress? exactly.
• one brown hat. it was a good look for a while.

• old boarding passes? how is this possible?
• set of camera chargers. none of which charge either of our cameras.
• one (cheap) digital camera. who still uses those?
• one checkbook cover. who still uses those?
• one tape measure. who still...? i mean, we have at least five others.

• favorite too-small jeans. ouch!
• second-favorite too-small jeans. ouch!
• favorite too-small shirt. ouch!
• favorite shirt that i love but never wear. not so bad.
• comforter cover that clashes with my bedroom walls. easy.

• picnic jug. non-thermal. been trying to shed this for two years.
• laser-cut geometric stainless steel blocks and rings. amazingly cool. 
• ancient glass light fixture. must not make assemblage artist friend into dumpster. but.
• cocktail napkins. i should have more parties.
• blue paper star-shaped hanging lampshade. now i never have to find a place to hang it. ever.

• five decorating books. dwell interiors? get real.
• candle holder. no longer pretty.
• four other books. a series that my children are unlikely to want to read. despite my desire that they should.

• another photo album.
• another hundred photos. first five years of parenting: overalls, bathtubs, bandaids and sleeping.

• one photo album.
• approximately forty photographs. we are cute when curated.

• five books. apparently i have quite a few gardening books.

• a folder of 401k statements. i heart a paperless file cabinet.
• one pair of sweatpants. too short. it's hard enough to look good in sweat pants.
• several photographs. keep only what you want to remember.
• a photo album. scanning project, anyone?
• a pair of pants. beautiful pants. expensive pants. formerly very flattering pants. sigh.

• one small dry erase board. it is fortunate that my children do not find me interesting enough to read this blog. 
• the other eight magazines. possibly the most satisfying thing to throw away.

• two advertising magnets. good cause does not = nice magnet.
• three turtles. painted papier mache. pretty.
• one elephant. fabric. pretty
• one toy basketball hoop. plastic. not pretty.

• the seven magazines in the living room. does anyone ever actually try recipes from back issues?

• eight mechanical pencils.
• three felt-tipped pens.
• seven ballpoints.
• five hardened erasers. i was persuaded to keep every single wooden pencil. which could be considered disaster supplies. by someone who reads far too much post-apocalyptic literature.

• seventeen books. which you can peruse at the madison high book sale on january 26 and 27. my junk is your junk.