As I was going through recipes for Thanksgiving, I came across a small list from almost nineteen years ago. I always come across this list around this time of year, because I keep it in my recipe book. Which, the last couple of years, I only open around this time of year.
When I emigrated to America, I had my stuff packed and shipped. My things would be delivered about six weeks after my arrival. T had bought us a little house and I needed a few things for those six weeks. The things I felt I absolutely couldn’t do without.
It’s a small list. It’s heading: “What I need to take in my luggage”
Cutting board (It was my small, thin board for lightweight camping.)
Cookbook (That’s probably why the list ended up there.)
Cooking scales (Also tiny.)
2 tea mugs
Dutch music cassettes
Butterflies (My great-grandmother’s skirt weights for cycling. I was attached to them, so I didn’t want them to get lost or damaged.)
Little bronze milkmaid bell (Idem.)
Why I felt I had to take my cooking scale is a mystery. I hardly ever measure anything exactly and I don’t bake much.
I suppose I bought a teapot over here because a teapot would break in my luggage. Little did I know that I would be landing, on February 6, in 89 degree weather! My lifelong chain-drinking tea habit went out the window in a flash, never to really return again.
But here’s my point: this is the very small list of things–apart from clothes–that I felt I really couldn’t do without. It’s a good reminder that all the stuff we think we need is mostly redundant. Nice, but pure luxury.