Small things do make a difference

There's a new dishwasher in my kitchen. It is basically the same model as the old dishwasher, just the panel with the buttons has been updated a tiny bit.

But this dishwasher works! And not only does it work, as in washing the dishes, but nothing else is broken, either.

You see, the old dishwasher was a bit too tall for the space it was in. So at some point, someone took out the floor beneath it. So it was a good two inches below  the level of the rest of the kitchen floor, resting on the floor joists. And since this is an old house, over 100 years old, there's been some settling. And the worst settling has been in the kitchen, so the floor slopes noticeably right at the counter where the dishwasher is installed. So it was lower than it should have been and it slanted a bit forward.

But that's not all. The spring in the door was broken, so every time you opened it, it crashed down to the floor. This meant that every single time you opened the dishwasher, you had to gently lower the door all the way down. If, like me, you have a back that sometimes reacts to bending over with sharp, stabbing pain, this is not the most enjoyable moment of your day.

There was also something wrong with the latch on the door. To get it to stay closed, and not crash down to the floor, you really had to shove the door shut. To get it to latch enough to run the machine, you had to exert significant force on the door, until a little blinking light turned to a steady glow.

Then a few months ago, it started to leak. Always from the same side, but varying amounts of water. Sometimes no leak at all, sometimes the kitchen floor would be sopping. Because of the slope of the floor, the water ran halfway across the kitchen and puddled right in front of the stove. So we had to start putting a folded dishtowel under the door every time we used the dishwasher.  Our Wonderful Landlord did have a plumber come and look at it, but he couldn't figure out how to fix it. (I think it was at this point that Wonderful Landlord realized it would need to be replaced sometime in the foreseeable future.)

And let's not forget about the mold problem that started last summer. We had to run bleach through the machine every week to keep that under control. This was probably caused by the fact that the washer didn't drain completely, due to the forward slant that it was on.

So move forward to Thursday, when the new washer was installed. Wonderful Landlord wanted it done right, this time. This required a bit of carpentry work, to replace the missing floor and create enough space under the counter for the new washer. Historical tidbit--old kitchen counters were approximately 32" high. Today's kitchen counters are about 34" high. Today's appliances don't fit under 50-60 year old countertops. Who knew?

The new dishwasher is level, not slanted. It sits at the correct height, because there is a floor under it. The door works properly. No more crashing down! You can lift the door up and it stays closed without shoving or pushing. It latches with a fingertip's pressure. It doesn't leak. With any kind of luck, we won't get mold.

No one of these things was a huge disaster. Any one of them I could have lived with for a long time. And they happened so slowly and gradually that I just adjusted to the changes and dealt with them. But gathered together in the shape of one machine? A pain in the neck. And then when it stopped working and just made sad grinding noises, it was clear that, however much you believe in repairing and fixing things up, this sad little dishwasher had washed its last dish.

It's going to take a week or two before I stop shoving the door shut, and stop going for a dish towel every time I run it.

And there's an added extra bonus. They had to raise the entire counter up two and a half inches. So now it is at a better working height for me, and the sink especially is at a good height. So maybe my back won't hurt as much when I wash the stuff that has to be handwashed and can't go in the dishwasher. 

But I'll adjust. And soon the old machine with be a dim memory. And I'll stop appreciating the joys of a machine that works exactly the way it is supposed to.

Why I love dishwashers so much

So, yesterday when I found the box of unexpected, bonus Valentine's Day flowers, I was saying goodbye to the handyman. Or rather, to my landlord's two handy men, Dave and Mike.

Dave and Mike were here to install a new dishwasher, the old one having finally stopped working. It wasn't that old, but over the past year, it had developed a mold problem that could only be dealt with by running bleach through it frequently, the spring in the door had broken so that the door crashed to the floor every time it was opened unless you remembered to gently lower it to the ground, and most recently, it had started to leak and the plumber couldn't figure out why which led to having to put a dishtowel on the floor to catch the water every time we ran the thing. Then, one fine morning when the air was crisp and the sunlight danced over the trees, it ceased to work altogether, giving one last final shriek of grinding gears before passing into silence.

Our Wonderful Landlord agreed to get a new dishwasher. But there was a small issue, having to do with the house being over 100 years old and the kitchen not much newer than that, that caused a few weeks delay. This has meant that we've been hand washing the dishes.

Now, hand washing dishes is nothing new. I grew up with six siblings and once you've hand washed the dinner dishes for nine people for one week every month (the older kids rotated the chores), you pretty much know how to deal with a stack of dirty dishes.

There are only two of us here, me and the Awesome Roommate. We each pretty much clean up after ourselves, so compared to washing dishes for nine people, the few minutes of swishing a suds-filled sponge around is nothing.

The real reason I love dishwashers is not because they wash the dishes. The real reason I love dishwashers is because they hide the dishes. You notice this most on weekends, when you are home for all three meals and probably some snacks. Slowly, the sink fills with the breakfast cereal bowl, the morning tea mug, the orange juice glass, the bowl that held the mid-morning yogurt, the plate that held the slice of pumpkin bread, the 10 am coffee break mug, the pan that warmed the lunch-time soup, the wooden spoon that stirred the soup, the soup bowl, the spoon, the bread plate, the butter knife, the milk glass. And that's by 1 pm. And if you've been baking or cooking meals for the week ahead, there are measuring cups and mixing bowls and knives and spoons and pots and pans and cooling racks and who-knows-what cluttering up the place.

Unless you want to be snapping on those rubber gloves four or five times a day to wash the dishes, the sink and surrounding counter top get messy looking really, really fast. While there are people out there who wash every dish, cup, mug and bowl immediately, I am not one of them. Twice a day seems to be my maximum limit for dish washing.

So I am absolutely thrilled to have a functioning dishwasher again. All those dishes just glide into the dishwasher, to remain hidden from sight until they are sparkling clean again. And since the dishwasher only gets run every two or three days here, we are probably saving water, as well.

I ran the new dishwasher last night. It looks very much like the old one, but it is Energy Star and it is much quieter than the older model. It did a great job on the dishes, even removing the remnants of the lip balm I wear all the time--the old one didn't and I had to handwash some of the glasses and flatware to get rid of it.

My unexpected bonus Valentine's roses are slowly opening out and the scent is quite lovely. There's a new dishwasher in my kitchen. Yesterday was a good day and today is shaping up to be a good day as well. The sun is shining, my dishes are clean (and I didn't have to clean them!) and the scent of roses lies upon the air. Worse things have happened.

Unexpected burst of spring

It's Valentine's Day. There's no one special in my life right now, so I wasn't planning on doing anything to mark the day. Which is fine by me.

But as I was showing out the handy man this afternoon, he pointed out a large box that was waiting at the front door.  "You got flowers!" he grinned. 

Completely puzzled, I picked up the box. It took about 30 seconds to realize that the flowers had been misdelivered. No clue who the person on the address label was. 

Then I had sad thoughts about someone waiting, hoping that her boyfriend would remember the day and send flowers, only nothing ever came. Or maybe the sender was deployed in Afghanistan and was sending the flowers because he couldn't be there today. 

I don't like sad thoughts. 

Fortunately, the phone number of the on-line flower company was included as part of their return address. So I called their 800 number and got a real, live person and explained the situation. Then I got put on hold. 

While on hold, I read the rest of the address label. Oops! The address they were meant for is literally right around the corner. I had just not registered that fact, because the street has two different names. At one end, it is Bay Road. At the other end, near me, it is named after a Famous Historical Personage from colonial days who lived in this town, let's call it Ward Street. Only no one ever calls it Ward Street. It is always called Bay Road. Or Route 106. But not Ward Street. 

Now I'm feeling all sorts of guilty. I could have walked the box of flowers down to the right house in about the amount of time this phone call was taking. 

The customer service rep got back on the line. "We've worked it out," she said. "You can keep the flowers." 

"But what about the person who's supposed to get these?" I was a bit stunned. "It's Valentine's Day. I don't want someone sitting there thinking her boyfriend forgot all about her."

"No, we have it covered. Just enjoy your flowers!" 

So now, lovelorn and alone on Valentine's Day, I nonetheless have two dozen red roses in a very nice ruby red vase. Lovely, pretty flowers that I don't deserve. That's what you get when you try to do the right thing, without reading the address carefully first. 

There's a lesson here. Doing the right thing pays off? Read more carefully next time? Don't be so quick to blame the delivery company? The universe is a strange place and we should appreciate it more?

Whatever it is, Happy Valentine's Day everyone!