On Saturday, December 28, my dishwasher died. Strictly speaking, it passed to the great appliance beyond sometime the night before. I started the dishwasher before I went to bed on Friday night and when we opened it on Saturday morning we found that the water pump had failed. Fittingly for this workhorse of a machine, it had spent the past 10 days being run 3 to 4 times a day, to keep up with our busy holiday season. It was never pretty but it always got the job done.
This beast of a Whirlpool machine joined the family in May 2005 when I moved into Sassafras House. The previous owners had taken their shiny new dishwasher and given me this well-used transplant from their new house. From the outset, it looked rough, with dents and scratches that suggested it had been in more than one fight. The push button start mechanism was already worn through and that was the clue for how to start the machine. But start it did and for years to come, it got the job done.
In 2005, it was no Spring chicken, though it washed like a dream. Inside it looked a little rough. Over the years that appearance continued to decline as it began to rust and shed parts.
When I first started it in 2005, I figured we’d ride this dishwashing wave as long as it lasted. That it survived another 14 years is a surprise. But golly did this beast earn its keep year after year. For its faithful service, I offer a hearty and grateful thank you.
A new one has been summoned and installed. Like the last dishwasher at this house, it’s a Whirlpool. Also like the last machine, we plan to enjoy it for a very long time. Welcome aboard, washing beauty. We already love you.
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