Sunday’s Daily Prompt asked in which everyday activity you can get lost in ‘the zone’. For me there can be only one answer. The dishwasher is my domain.
I don’t know if there is any single individual who can claim responsibility for liberating the masses from the drudgery of washing up by inventing the dishwasher but, if there is, then as far as I’m concerned any further debate about what statue should permanently occupy the fourth plinth in Trafalgar Square is entirely superfluous. Indeed, I’d say there’s a strong case for deposing Nelson and replacing him on top of the column with whoever this modern messiah may be.
Let’s be honest, for all his talents, Horatio probably wouldn’t have known one end of a tea-towel from the other.
I remember some years ago reading about a survey of the most essential white goods, in which the dishwasher topped the list as the item that would be the first to be replaced in the event of failure – above the refrigerator, the vacuum cleaner, even the washing machine. Amen to that.
But this post isn’t really a paean to the device itself. Of course I love the fact that it renders unnecessary the misery of washing and drying the dirty crockery by hand, but the thrill – and where I get into the zone – is the art (and it is an art) of loading it.There’s a place for everything and everything in its place.
Top basket: cups on the left, glasses on the right, along with small bowls. Saucers down the middle, in the rack.
Bottom basket: dinner-plates in the rack at rear right, pans to the left. Smaller plates at front left, with the right reserved for the pyrex dishes (although the associated lids go on the left, obviously).
The cutlery basket also has its own rules. Knives, forks and spoons each have their own compartment, as do serving utensils. They will never be mixed, because that would not only be unsightly but smacks too much of anarchy.
This isn’t to say, though, that each type of utensil always goes into the same compartment. That would be silly. Sometimes the knives are at the front and sometimes they go in the rear compartment. I mean, it’s not like I’ve got OCD or anything, for heaven’s sake.
Let me tell you, when I stack the dishwasher – and you can be quite sure that nobody else gets a look-in if I have anything to do with it – it stays stacked. By and large, I believe that my family recognise and accept that I am uniquely qualified when it comes to dealing with the dishwasher. And why not? The evidence is indisputable.
There are, it’s true, the occasional pointed comments from loved ones along the lines of ‘well, I could get more in than that’, but since when has quantity been more important than quality?
If a thing’s worth doing, it’s worth doing properly, that’s what I say.