RIP Electrical Appliances

The Lovely Husband doesn't get it. The teens don't get it. Maybe nobody does. I love my everyday appliances. The Bamix we purchased to make baby food, when the nearly 18 year old was growing in my uterus, has just died. I really feel it. We only used it to make smoothies and to blend soup these days, nothing exotic or complicated, but oh how I feel the loss. There is no where local to have it fixed and I am more tight with money then I am attached to it, maybe that is healthy thinking? We bought a cheaper stick blender and it works well.... but it is not the Bamix.



I have a lovely old stoneware electric jug (3 teacup capacity) I bought from some second hand place a million years ago and we use it to this day. It has no automatic shut off and the safety feature is when it boils unsupervised it triggers the safety switch on our power board and the the power cuts out. See? All good. We do have a modern auto electric jug when we have more than two visitors but it has no character, boring, ordinary.

When the Lovely Husband and I got married I owned an old fridge I had purchased second hand that would have been nifty in the 60s. It had a wavy grain affect down the front and I loved it. When eventually it gave its last wheeze I was saddened. It was a family member. The Lovely Husband didn't see it. Hmmph. Doesn't he know these things I worked so hard to buy have a soul? A slightly used, clunky soul but still...

The furniture in the teens' rooms are from my old bachelorette days. Again bought second hand. A dressing table that would have been delightful in the 30s. An old wardrobe from the same era. I used to have an old metal iron I bought from some market I suppose that was heavy and worked for years. Now we have a soulless plastic number. The ironing board though, it creaks and groans and complains, would have been ultra modern in the 60s and has in one of its legs a rolled up letter addressed to a lady who had won it in a washing powder competition. Do you get it? They have a history.

I have my childhood books, second hand when I read them all those years ago, our kids have read them and I cannot ditch them. They are not even packed away. They are on display in our replica antique bookcase along with the Buzz and Woody that the Young Negotiator would have thrown had I not objected strongly. He, at the age of 5 or 6, made his bed and cleared the breakfast table for six months to be rewarded with Buzz Lightyear. "To infinity and beyond" doesn't work anymore but we cannot possibly part with him. Woody still says "Somebody's poisoned the waterhole" in such a cute way, he stays too.




You will think me crazy now but I admit I even have attachment to my razor. I can part with the blades but I get an affinity with the razor. My razor has to withstand the jungle that is my legs, my armpits. That is a very personal thing. It broke recently and I asked the Lovely Husband to buy me a "girly" razor and he brings home a packet of girly disposables. How can I form a bond with a disposable? I will have to rectify this situation and go out and buy my own. It must speak to me from the supermarket shelf. I need to eyeball them and find the one.

I have a pair of denim overalls I had someone try on for me when I was heavily pregnant 18 years ago. I don't wear them anymore but I have them. If nothing else I am loyal, strange but loyal.

We have a new computer now, I had trouble parting with the old one but it was no longer managing after 6+ years.

I have the same Lovely Husband. We have been married 24 years this month and I am not parting with him any time soon. He has a wonderful soul, he is a character, very nifty but I would not say he was ultra modern. He is unable to send a text. This man who would have been delightful in the 50s is 'The One'.