Suds

The dishwasher decided to go kaput.  I can’t blame it, I mean it has a never-ending job that seems to be taken for granted.  Maybe it’s staging a strike, perhaps it just wants to be appreciated and then again maybe it’s broken from regular use.

It isn’t the end of the world, but with limited energy and I use the dishwasher.  Oh I don’t run it every day or all the time, and never run it with only a small amount in it.  I mean to say that while it may not be the greenest of choices, it’s a choice that allows me a little more quality of life.  And now it is no longer functioning.

My dishwasher, it seems, is a bit like me, damaged and unable to work as it had previously.  It doesn’t mean it is something to be cast aside, it simply needs some help.  Beloved pointed out that early cultures would allow domesticated dogs to lick their dishware clean.  I’m not sure how clean that would get things, but maybe it was better than nothing.  Other cultures scoured the dishware with salt or sand, which then would get into their teeth and wear them down as well.

So no sand or salt and despite what the four-footed one thinks she will not be licking the plates clean.  Washing by hand is in order until the machine is fixed.  And once it is fixed, I promise you I will not take it for granted not for one wash cycle.

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