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The Dishwasher and Me

At 4:45 am, it was just the

dishwasher and me. I looked at its red numerals registering "0.00."The dishes are ready. Darn. Now I guess I have to empty the dishwasher even before I drink my coffee. I slowly turned to the waiting appliance.

Then a feeling comes over me to be supportive, or caring or something like that as I begin. Kindly opening he door I am grateful that the inside has cooled and my glasses don't fog up. And there they are dozens of individual things and decisions to make about which I select first in my system of putting stuff away.

I select a large drinking-glass and open the cabinet to put it in its territory unmarked by any other glasses on that shelf. The selecting, picking-up, and placing takes about two breaths/ moments. The glass travels from place to place. Then the shelf filled with three different size glasses each in the right rows of their territory.

Moments continue to pass as I roll the glass rack back in and pull out the lower rack and its bounty. I now select dinner plates who already have others waiting on their shelf for their return. I perform a reunion. The small plates and bowls stacking up in their place follow filling other shelves.

I like engaging the utensils basket. I pick it up and we walk over to a drawer. Placing the basket on the counter and opening the drawer I take handfuls of them and hear the tinkle of happiness as the tray in the drawer welcomes old friends back from their spa. I return the basket to its dishwasher place, close the door, turn off the digital display and wipe the counters.

I returned to the kettle. It was then for a split second I thought I heard my cup and coffee whisper "good work," as the three of us enjoyed each other's company in silence...



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