The first picture is from this morning, the last is from later this afternoon as the sun was hastening to go down before it’s lengthening curfew which is currently around half past four.
Now I’m off to stash my dirty dishes out of sight in a box that later will wash and dry them for me. Yes, I’m talking about my new automatic dishwasher. After telling Shane for the last two plus years I didn’t really care about replacing our broken dishwasher, suddenly this past fall I cared. A lot.
So last Friday, we headed off to get one which Shane promptly spent hours installing until it was ready later that evening. It is quite nice to pop them in dirty and then pop them out clean. Shane wonders what I will do with all the extra time I now have at my disposal. One can only imagine!
I am sure I have shared my love of dishwashers with you here, in person, over the phone…
I want to like washing sudsy warm dishes in a sink of hot water. I know there is a pleasant and even a sweet luxuriousness about having a moment in front of the sink to think about the day. I do understand the slowness of it being a blessing – the opportunity to stand beside your mate or your child and wash dishes and talk or not talk.
BUT – 3 times (or 4 or 5 times) a day for an hour – No. Too much. Too messy for my already messy brain.
He's a good man that Shane.
It is the frequency that got to me too. Shane's alright. 😉