Report on the 'Minimalism Project'

A friend just called my Socorro life 'an experiment in minimalism'. I hadn't quite thought of it that way, but I suppose that it was, relatively. I can report that some things I really missed. But mostly, I got along fine. Here's the setup:

1) ~600 sq. ft. cottage, of which only 400 sq. ft actually got used. (I stacked my clothes in plastic bins in a corner of one room, but didn't actually use that room. I just never got around to getting a dresser for the bedroom...)
2) Minimal furniture purchasing:
one sm. computer desk that I used for both desk and kitchen table.
one metal folding chair.
one air mattress with one set of sheets, one blanket, one pillow.
3) Other furniture rented, by the month:
one sofa
one loveseat
one area rug
one coffee table
two endtables
two lamps
4) All kitchen supplies fit in a single box---one of those red-lidded bins from Lowe's.
5) One duffle bag full of clothes.
6) One other red-lidded bin full of random things (a few books, watercolor paints, yarn and knitting needles, bathmat, soap dish, etc.)
7) One laptop.
8) One iPhone. (see why I don't consider it 'minimalism'?)
9) No landline.
10) No tv.
11) No internet connection.
12) No car. (see why my friend DOES consider it 'minimalism'?)
13) For about 6 weeks, I had a vacuum cleaner. But it broke, and I just borrowed one from a friend twice since then.
14) In the kitchen: electric stove and range, fridge, sink. No microwave, no small appliances. Horror has been expressed about my not having a coffee-maker.
15) In the bathroom: shower, a tub I'd never bathe in, toilet, sink. No hairdryer, etc. But I never have those. Again, some react with horror.
16) One five-gallon aquarium, with five fish.
17) One window box with three plants.
18) One sweet bicycle.
19) No washer/dryer. Laundromat 1 mile away.
20) One large backpack.
21) One small backpack
22) One cloth shopping bag.

For the record, I did not feel at all deprived. I felt like I was living pretty swank, actually. I ate out as much as I wanted, visited the library a couple of times per week, went to the grocery store nearly every day, paid for my share of food and beer with friends at BBQ's, and spent more evenings out than in. J came to visit, and seemed to feel that some added swankness was needed, and by the time he left, I'd acquired all kinds of things, like a bath mat and a soap dish and a toilet paper holder. And a whole slew of glasses for wine or martinis. I had a bottle of 18-year Jameson's that I bought specially because I had intended it as my 'tenure whiskey'. It turned into my 'Obama inauguration whiskey', and everyone enjoyed it very much, which was more fun than drinking it all myself. I often had wine in the house, and often took a bottle elsewhere.

For almost the entire time I was here (exclusive of J's visit), I kept track of every single expense. If I spent money, I recorded it in my phone. I wanted to know what this boondoggle was costing.

Monthly costs:
rent: $375
furniture: $130
electric: usually $15, $50 Dec and Jan (electric baseboard heat, oh boy.)
water, etc.: $11 avg.
food, wine and beer: $80
eating out: $60
entertainment: (iTunes, movie rentals, audiobooks, etc.): $30
liquor (not wine and beer): $20 ($90 of this total was my 18-yr Jamesons)
miscellaneous: (laundry, fish food, train fare, magazines, etc.): $15

So. Add it up. For less than $800/month, I was living really comfortably.

What did I miss? John. Captain. Trinket. The gurls. My friends at home. Trees. My garden. Good pots and pans. A knife with room for your fingers under the handle. A 'real' NPR station. Restaurant variety. Windows that close all the way. An outdoor space to inhabit.

Towards the end, I got tired of schlepping my clothes to the laundromat. Mostly because I had left my big backpack at home in January, and had to take two trips every time. Bad enough to walk two miles to do your laundry. Worse to do it twice in one day. If I were staying longer, I would either a) send for the larger backpack, or b) start calling the public transportation van, or c) start borrowing an NRAO van.

Sometimes I got really frustrated by not having the interweb right there at home when I wanted it. But then I'd walk over to someplace that had it, and figure ok, whatev. After a while, I just got used to planning ahead. And then I got used to only being able to check email on my phone. And then I noticed I was a lot more relaxed...

I didn't miss having a car. I listened to a lot of audiobooks, and got a lot of thinking done. After a while, I even stopped using my bike, prefering to take my time and walk wherever I was going, because there was enough time to have a complete thought, but not so much that I bored myself. Once in a while, I felt a little claustrophobic. So I'd take the public transportation van (not a bus. It's complicated.) to the train station, or I'd talk people into a big group hike.

Now, I grant you. I don't live like this at home. Home is lots more luxurious, and has lots more dependents. It's also much colder than here. And anyone can put up with almost anything for five months. That's not the point. The point is... well, I don't know what the point is. I guess the point is that if I had to, I could get by with a lot less. And still be totally good. And that's really comforting, at this particular moment of chaos.