The Old Dishwasher by Toni Calvello

(In honor of my dish scrubber, I present a poem about a different kind of washer.)

Today we ripped the old dishwasher
from the kitchen where it has made its home
for the last thirty years.

Dust coated pipes and hoses
were exposed in all their nakedness
and seemed to be embarrassed by the intrusion
into their dark, private hole in the wall.

And underneath the old dishwasher,
three different floor coverings,
each with its own story to tell of years gone by.

At the very bottom of the trio lies a beige stone pattern
which looks very much like real stone
but is a linoleum from 40 years ago.
I look down at the linoleum and remember
at the age of 12 when I used to clean the house
for my mother who worked all day.

I’d mop this floor each week and then
wax the beige stones until they shone and sparkled.
And when the job was done, I’d put the chairs and table
back in their places and I’d begin the family dinner.
No one really noticed the waxed, shiny floor.
At the end of the week, I’d receive my 25 cent allowance
and go to the Friday night movie on the corner.

Then the next week, I’d begin all over again.
At twelve, the housework, dinner, and dishes were all my job.
And now, with the old dishwasher gone,
all that is left are memories of the mopping, waxing,
and a girlchild with lots of dreams.

Kitchen Aide

An age-old piece of writing advice is to write about what you know. After all these years I have some degree of kitchen wisdom. I'm not a fancy cook, meaning I don't cook fancy or gourmet meals. No one in my family wants to eat that stuff except for me. However, I do cook a variety of fine dishes and I manage to get the entire meal on the table hot and ready to enjoy all together. I don't claim to know everything about cooking: I just recently learned the term "chiffonade" - to cut into ribbons. As in roll up several leaves of kale like a cigar and cut narrow strips -  which illustrates why we need terms - they are shorter than their definitions.

Anyway, although I don't know all the terms, I can cook fairly well. But sometimes the equipment in the kitchen causes me some concern. Right now I have a little dishwasher gizmo that consists of a hollow plastic handle with a screw-top at one end and a sponge at the other. The theory is that dishwashing liquid is poured into the handle and makes its way to the sponge for quick washing. Some of these devices are better than others. I purchased this particular one because I couldn't find my usual wand last time I needed a new one. Why would I need a new one when I can just replace the sponge when it becomes shredded? Because eventually, no matter who the manufacturer, the wands start to leak dishwashing liquid. Usually this takes quite some time - months or even a year or so. 

But this particular wand is confounding me. Sometimes the liquid leaks out the screw-top end, but other times it leaks from the little rubber  button in the middle of the wand. I do not know what this button is for. When you push it, nothing noticeable happens. This is the first scrubber I have had with this little button and it is about to become the last. The leakage from this one has started way too soon for my money-saving instincts. I've kept it around because I hate spending money on these gadgets, but I really prefer to wash dishes with these devices than with a cloth. Yes, the dishwasher does a great job, but we fill it about every 3 - 4 days and then wash, so I usually have a few things to hand wash after every meal in addition to pots and pans. 

This scrubber has leaked its last. It may not seem like a big deal to wipe up the liquid soap, and usually it isn't if you have a Corian or formica type counter. But when we built this house, my SO put in 12 X 12 porcelain tiles as the counter top. Love the look, hate to get soap in the grout between the tiles. It just takes a bit of extra effort to be sure the soap is gone from these indentations, but even though I don't mind washing the dishes, I like to get out of the kitchen fast and wiping grout lines holds me up. But that isn't the worst of it. We have a lovely drop in sink that overlaps the counter on all sides but isn't sealed. So the sneaky, slimy dish soap oozes under the lip and I have to figure out how to get the dish cloth under it in order to wipe out the soap. I know that I haven't been totally successful in removing all the soap; therefore, when we replace this sink I know what my SO is going to say when he sees the scum build-up. Or maybe he will just give me the look. That disappointed, slightly incredulous look that says, "I can't believe you couldn't take care of this little thing. Lucky there is a man around the house. What would you ever do without me, you poor, little woman?" He would never say this out loud, but his look speaks volumes. And while I like having him around, I think I am a competent person who has managed to raise two kids on a teacher's salary and live two-thirds her life quite successfully without him. So the look rankles. That is why the dish-scrubber-wand-thing is being replaced tomorrow.