ChatterBank0 min ago
Wish my dishwasher well....
4 Answers
My ancient worktop dishwasher is poorly, the water won't go in..... the plumber's been, the water is there, the power's there.... it could be furred up with limescale, so the prescription is shedloads of limescale remover and lots of tlc.
I found the receipt, my mum bought it in 1990, so if it doesn't make it, lil ole Ben Dix certainly doesn't owe us anything!
I found the receipt, my mum bought it in 1990, so if it doesn't make it, lil ole Ben Dix certainly doesn't owe us anything!
Answers
1 to 4 of 4
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This week, Boxie ripped the old dishwasher
from the kitchen where it had made its home
for the last twenty-two years.
Dust-coated copper pipes, yukky hoses
were exposed in all their tubular nakedness
and seemed to be embarrassed by the intrusion
into their dark, manky, private hole in the wall.
And underneath Ben Dix, Boxie's trusted washer,
three different floor coverings,
each with its own story to tell of years gone by.
At the very bottom of the trio lies a red and black stone pattern
which looks very much like real stone
but is a linoleum from 40 years ago.
She looks down at the linoleum and remembers
the long days when she used to clean the house
waiting for nibble who worked all day.
She’d mop this floor each week and then
wax the tiles until they shone and sparkled.
And when the job was done, Boxie'd put the chairs and table
back in their places and she’d begin the family dinner.
No one really noticed the waxed, shiny floor.
At the end of the week, she’d receive the family wages
and go to the Friday pub bingo on the corner.
Then the next week, Boxie would begin all over again.
The housework, dinner, and dishes were all her job.
And now, with the old Ben Dix, her dishwasher gone,
all that is left are memories of the mopping, waxing,
and a woman with lots of dreams.
from the kitchen where it had made its home
for the last twenty-two years.
Dust-coated copper pipes, yukky hoses
were exposed in all their tubular nakedness
and seemed to be embarrassed by the intrusion
into their dark, manky, private hole in the wall.
And underneath Ben Dix, Boxie's trusted washer,
three different floor coverings,
each with its own story to tell of years gone by.
At the very bottom of the trio lies a red and black stone pattern
which looks very much like real stone
but is a linoleum from 40 years ago.
She looks down at the linoleum and remembers
the long days when she used to clean the house
waiting for nibble who worked all day.
She’d mop this floor each week and then
wax the tiles until they shone and sparkled.
And when the job was done, Boxie'd put the chairs and table
back in their places and she’d begin the family dinner.
No one really noticed the waxed, shiny floor.
At the end of the week, she’d receive the family wages
and go to the Friday pub bingo on the corner.
Then the next week, Boxie would begin all over again.
The housework, dinner, and dishes were all her job.
And now, with the old Ben Dix, her dishwasher gone,
all that is left are memories of the mopping, waxing,
and a woman with lots of dreams.
1 to 4 of 4
