Dish Washing

Several years ago my son presented me with my first dishwasher.
It was life changing.
There are occasions since that time when I have washed dishes by hand, like Thanksgiving or any special occasion that uses more than the usual amount of dishes, or some that I want to be more careful with. But mostly since that very first time deciding which line to position that beautiful black wash cycle knob on, I have relied almost exclusively on my machine.
It has been like a good friend who has kept the dirty little secrets of what is hidden inside, behind the closed door, and it has relieved me of that one more job at the end of an already job weary day, offering silently and dependably that I sit down for a while, take a load off, put my feet up, let it do all the work. Of course I have been thankful to oblige.
When I remodeled the completely inefficient, grossly undersized space to a space only slightly more suitable to the needs of my family and I, a double sink was installed next to the opening fit to hold a dishwasher.
As the number of us who utilize the space has decreased, the space has increased. Where there once was barely enough room for all the kitchen gear, there is now room enough. This also has to be attributed at least in part to my weeding out of unnecessary or too seldom used items, keeping only what I really like to use.
Considering all this and the fact that it’s just 3 adults who live in my home now, I find it a little unbelievable that we would ever have a dishwasher and both sinks full of dirty dishes!
True, the dish washing detergent was gone but only that for the dishwasher, there was still liquid detergent, there are 3 licensed, employed, able bodied adults in this house, any one of whom could have gone to the store to purchase detergent and any one of whom could wash dishes the old fashioned way…
After a trip to the store to purchase detergent and a few other items equally important to the smooth function of the household, I for the umpteenth time, turned that little black knob without even thinking having done it so many times previously, and the machine faithfully began its chore.
I pressed the plunger on the stopper to plug the drain in the sink and filled it with hot sudsy water to wash by hand the remaining dishes, a task I had not done in a long time. I was a little surprised to admit to myself that it sounded like a good idea. I actually used to like washing dishes when I lived in Illinois because it warmed my perpetually freezing winter hands, which warmed all of perpetually freezing me. While I was not cold or in need of warming up there was still something about the act that was inviting. The smell of warm suds, the way they fell off under the light pressure from the faucet for rinsing, I liked it.
I thought about the times of washing dishes with my sweet friend 25+ years ago, and what a wonderful time in life it was because of her friendship.
I thought about my little boys whose job it was to wash the supper dishes night after night for years and with our big family it was no quick task. I remembered how they complained and really did not want that job, and how I wished they did not have to do it. They did have to do it though because I needed help, I was tired, and each family member should contribute to the overall quality of the life of the family as a whole, pulling some of the weight of what needs to be done as they are able. They did have to do it.
I thought about the photograph I have of a couple of those boys hard at work and play as they arranged the washed and dried dished in a stack one by one, creating a dish tower on the counter. Their ability to improvise a less than desirable situation to be an opportunity to express creativity impressed me.
I smiled about it then, and again as I washed my sink full of dishes.
Among the items to be washed was a large 1 gallon Tupperware pitcher. I bought 2 of them 20 or more years ago and still own them both. They were to me, in the life of my large busy family, a most ingenious piece of kitchen equipment with push button release vacuum sealing lids to keep drinks from spilling out the spout making drips all along the way to a glass, when carried by a small person who is not mindful of such things.
I thought how it is still as good as new even after accommodating hundreds, maybe thousands of gallons of Kool-aid and sweet tea guzzled down by hot sweaty little boys anxious to get back to the business of serious outdoor activity.
How much tea went over that spout to fill the glass of a thirsty boy just taking a break from a bike or car repair, how many friends found refreshment in the contents of that pitcher, how many sips for tea parties and picnics spilled over that spout for my little girl and her friends, countless.
Washing the dishes today was perhaps the best or at least one of the best spent 20 minutes I have had in a while.
I am not suggesting that I might be better off hand washing my dishes regularly by any means.
I would not suggest that I won’t be upset when my poor old dishwasher finally gives out as has been recently indicated by the unusual sounds it makes now.
I would certainly be surprised if I am not frustrated the next time the kitchen is a disaster because of the dirty dishes of 3 adults while apparently only 1 of the adults is on dish duty.
I am just pleasantly pleased at how thoroughly I enjoyed the chore of dish washing today.
It can have a transporting effect on ones memory.
P.J.