In the "Trying To Be A Better Blogger and Post More Often" category, I've had the idea of featuring one thing that's brought me joy during the week for a while but I never followed through. I regularly find myself looking at something I'm using and thinking, "Gee, I love this". They are almost always vintage items I've had for years, but sometimes I discover that things I didn't know I needed are amazing additions to daily life.
So here goes, my first Friday Favorite: My Dish Drainer. Exciting beyond belief, right? But honestly, every time I look at my dish drainer recently, I smile.
I have a dishwasher that I could (but don't want) to live without. Our '50's bungalow didn't have one so I was more than a little excited when we bought a new house With A Dishwasher.
Although it turned out to be a dishwasher that I'd turn on then leave to grocery shop. Or go upstairs and use the sewing machine. Or wander outside to pull weeds. Noisy, much? We never started it up when we wanted to have a conversation or watch TV or eat dinner.
There are some things that are not meant to go in dishwashers though--like wooden knives and cutting boards, aluminum measuring cups, melamine bowls--so they get washed by hand.
After twenty-five years of noisily but efficiently cleaning dishes, Dishwasher #1 began having issues (I can relate) and a new quiet model has since been installed (thankfully my husband has not replaced his older and noisy Wife #1).
Those wooden/aluminum/melamine items still have to be washed individually though. Hence the dish drainer. The current one is as old as our granite counter tops. Well, not as old as the granite pluton that spawned them originally.
That would be silly since plastic didn't exist then.
Neither did humans, now that I think of it.
When we gleefully demolished our ceramic tile and grody grout a few years back, we bought a clear plastic dish drainer that wouldn't obscure our amazing smooth granite counter. Years of cradling wet dishes left the rubber with a cloudy residue from unknown minerals in our generally fabulous water straight from Lake Tahoe. Not pretty 'though still fairly see-through.
New Year, new eyes. As I dried the dishes recently I actually looked at the drainer, saw the residue and made a change. Not by buying a new drainer--applying a bit of elbow grease showed how easily the cloudiness could be eliminated. A baking soda paste and a soft cloth revealed a clear, good-as-new surface.
So humble dish drainer, thanks for making my dishwashing chores a bit more beautiful and satisfying.
And the moral of the story (it occurs to me as I type) is that I have the power to improve life in lots of ways if I just open my eyes and make the effort. I'm betting it works on people and relationships as well as dish drainers. Grin.
Stay shiny,
So here goes, my first Friday Favorite: My Dish Drainer. Exciting beyond belief, right? But honestly, every time I look at my dish drainer recently, I smile.
I have a dishwasher that I could (but don't want) to live without. Our '50's bungalow didn't have one so I was more than a little excited when we bought a new house With A Dishwasher.
Although it turned out to be a dishwasher that I'd turn on then leave to grocery shop. Or go upstairs and use the sewing machine. Or wander outside to pull weeds. Noisy, much? We never started it up when we wanted to have a conversation or watch TV or eat dinner.
There are some things that are not meant to go in dishwashers though--like wooden knives and cutting boards, aluminum measuring cups, melamine bowls--so they get washed by hand.
After twenty-five years of noisily but efficiently cleaning dishes, Dishwasher #1 began having issues (I can relate) and a new quiet model has since been installed (thankfully my husband has not replaced his older and noisy Wife #1).
Those wooden/aluminum/melamine items still have to be washed individually though. Hence the dish drainer. The current one is as old as our granite counter tops. Well, not as old as the granite pluton that spawned them originally.
That would be silly since plastic didn't exist then.
Neither did humans, now that I think of it.
When we gleefully demolished our ceramic tile and grody grout a few years back, we bought a clear plastic dish drainer that wouldn't obscure our amazing smooth granite counter. Years of cradling wet dishes left the rubber with a cloudy residue from unknown minerals in our generally fabulous water straight from Lake Tahoe. Not pretty 'though still fairly see-through.
New Year, new eyes. As I dried the dishes recently I actually looked at the drainer, saw the residue and made a change. Not by buying a new drainer--applying a bit of elbow grease showed how easily the cloudiness could be eliminated. A baking soda paste and a soft cloth revealed a clear, good-as-new surface.
So humble dish drainer, thanks for making my dishwashing chores a bit more beautiful and satisfying.
And the moral of the story (it occurs to me as I type) is that I have the power to improve life in lots of ways if I just open my eyes and make the effort. I'm betting it works on people and relationships as well as dish drainers. Grin.
Stay shiny,
clever girl, never one to waste. both myself and the environment commend you! jojo
ReplyDeleteI think I'm a bit of rescuer--can't bear to part with something that still has some life in it. Also too cheap!
DeleteIt always amazes me how happy the smallest things can make us. And you're right - we most certainly do have the power to improve our lives if we just take the time to notice things.
ReplyDeleteHappy 2015!
I guess it's because those little things seem inconsequential, but we use them over and over--so why not make them the best we can and up our happiness quotient?! Thanks for dropping by and I've enjoyed visiting your blog too, Susan.
DeleteAnd one loved and used dish drainer saved from the dump.
ReplyDeleteThank heavens for a holiday break and a new year to get my rear in gear, Debby. Us teachers love our vacations (and need them since focus all our energy while school is in session)! Stay warm and cozy!
Delete