Eulogy for a vacuum cleaner

It says a lot for my hub's understanding of me that he did not protest when I took these photos. He seems OK with me getting over-attached to inanimate objects. I also get over-attached to animate ones, but that is more acceptable in most circles. This story may be a bit too graphic for some viewers, but I did try to leave out the grittiest parts.

Many many years ago (more than half as long as I have been alive), I decided I'd purchase a vacuum cleaner to vacuum my horses. I was living in NM at the time in a house without running water. There was no simple way to get dust off my horses (and there was an abundance of dust on them, believe me). I had seen horses at shows being vacuumed. That's where I got the idea. While I was home visiting the first summer (1980), I went to a local vacuum cleaner store and purchased a refurbished Eureka canister vacuum for $65. I was told that new it would have been over $300. Even so, $65 was pretty pricey for something I intended to use as grooming equipment. I bought it and took it back with me to my primitive residence in NM.

During the subsequent 31 years, I used it possibly twice for horse vacuuming and hundreds and hundreds of times for more typical purposes. I cleaned the church with it (because unlike the upright the church owned, it allowed me to vacuum the fabric on the pews and the window sills and under the pulpit and behind the commodes). I cleaned houses I lived in. I cleaned houses that others lived in. Sometimes there was some really gross stuff that vacuum sucked right up without complaint. Occasionally it did sort of choke, but with persuasion it would gulp down dust buffalos, dried up dog poop, spilled cheerios, dead roaches, shriveled lizards, flea eggs...(you were warned this might get graphic, but I'll stop since the list gets worse). This vacuum ventured many places more expensive and pampered vacuums were called to go.

In the 90's I found that the bags for it were no longer sold alongside the bags of more contemporary models. I was distressed to think that I would have to give it up because I couldn't get bags for it! Then I found the 99cent stores had ended up with the remaining H bags and I bought up all their packages at 3 for $1. I bought so many that it was possible to change the bag every time I used the vacuum. Thus, when I turned on the machine it didn't have that dust mold stink that most vacuums do (because of the stuff still left in the bag's innards).

Anyway, that vacuum was my faithful helper when folks who were moving out had to clean up their apartments before the landlord came to evaluate and decide whether their deposit could be refunded. It could reach drapes, venetian blinds, cobwebs on ceiling fans, mouse droppings in the bottom of ovens, spiderwebs along the baseboards, mud clods in the garage...

While we lived in our barn for three years, it could get under the tightly jammed furniture, under the fridge, under and behind the washing machine, up on the top bunk bed, along the top of the door frames, on the steep stairs...in fact, I could stand on the stairs and vacuum off the top of the fridge, bookshelves...

Since we've been in our house it continued to serve until a couple of months ago when it began to make a screeching sound in protest: a sound I could not ignore. I told Kevin I thought something awful was wrong with it.

Last week we took it to the vacuum store on Lamar: the store that occupies the same building that used to be the Chicken Shack. The owner himself turned the vacuum on, heard enough to make his diagnosis; he said with certainty the motor was dying: the heart of it. The metal body was still in decent shape (with a few dents and a seal slipping and the on-off switch cover gone). The hose was fine (it was actually the only part I'd replaced in 31 years; it was comparatively new). The expert commented on the metal attachments (since the newer ones are plastic). He said that it was up to me whether I wanted to have a new motor installed or just buy a new machine. He readily admitted that a new machine would not last like this one had. He said that a newer one would have better suction.

Then, he told me that he thought the actual hose and tools from my old machine could be mounted on a new Eureka Mighty Mite. He showed me that cute little model and suddenly it seemed less like I was giving up my buddy, and rather more like a transplant was being done.

I realized as I stood in the valley of decision that I had no photos of my faithful ol' pal. So, I took some to remember him by.

I can't explain why I care about such things emotionally. I didn't even give the vacuum a name. Maybe it has something to do with living alone (or without other humans) for so many years. But, whatever the reason, I do have a deep appreciation for the gifts God gives (including the tools, vehicles, shelters, AC!...)

It just doesn't seem right not to express my gratitude for the vacuum I bought on a silly whim 31 years ago that has allowed me to serve others and keep the outdoors at bay wherever I am.

Although I left the body on the counter, I carried away a descendant wearing the hose and wand of his great GREAT grandfather Eureka!

The LORD provides what we need if we keep our hand open!

Above we see the new Eureka (yellow) silently awaiting the transported hose.

The transplant was quick and seemingly painless.
I didn't ask what would become of the old body. I didn't want to know.

A few of you may recognize this (I made allusion to it in the story).

The Mighty Mite is hoisted on board for the trip home with us. He proudly sports the tools of his famous predecessor.

Night TERRORS

Wow! It has been over a month since my last post; much has happened! We took Ellie and Buck on our church trailride and had a wonderful time! Ellie is such a blast to ride! She thinks everybody is there to be her friend. Her gaits are so comfy! The pictures were taken on the day of the trailride; none of me because I was taking them. And I finally got Kevin to try her out and he agreed she's as pleasing under saddle as she is from the ground. Buck has been lording it over her, but then you have to cut him slack since this is probably the first time in his whole life when he's had a horse buddy he could push around! He's loving it! I'm hoping that as the weather gets colder he'll want to cuddle more and bully less. I could go on quite a while about our latest hay hassles and horse adventures and recent rainfall, but I actually was motivated to post by a recent experience that is a first for me!

A few nights ago (Saturday to be exact) while Kevin was off at choir practice, I came out of the barn (where we have our washer and dryer) into the deep dark of a cloudy night and less than 30 feet away from me a sound erupted which was by far the most blood-curdling, heart-stopping, gut-wrenching noise I've ever heard! I stood still, totally paralyzed, attempting to determine what on earth (or not on earth) could have emitted the cry. I was so shaken that I couldn't even replay it in my mind; I had never ever experienced anything like it; not in my worst nightmares. A few seconds later, an owl hooted in a tree above the spot the sound had come from. I was immensely relieved. I told the owl, "you just scared the s--t out of me!" I couldn't imagine how an owl, even a large one (we have barred owls on our place), could make a sound like that, but I decided he must have been projecting his voice to make it seem to come from the ground. The dogs, too, apparently were fooled. They ran barking to the spot where the cry had come from . Thinking they were wrong I called them back. I fussed at the owl for a few minutes and actually hoped he'd repeat the performance to confirm my conclusion. But, he spoke not another word and the silence was broken only by the panting dogs and my pounding heart. I went on about my evening chores making a mental note to look on the internet to see if there were other people who had been privy to an up close, personal, terrorist owl encounter.

I told Kevin when he got home about it. Then, yesterday morning I started searching on the web and listened to a variety of owl cackles, screams, hisses, clicks, hoots, ...but there was nothing remotely close to what I had heard. I spoke to a bird expert and he said that he didn't believe any owl made a noise such as I described (not that I was able to describe it very well). I said that it was VERY loud, about 2 or 3 seconds in duration, and it was unearthly. Like a banshee? He suggested a possum. I looked that up and no, not long or loud enough (although fighting coons sound like cats fighting). I know what coyotes sound like (and they can be pretty weird, too) and I am familiar with wolf howls, pig screams (we do have wild pigs around), various night birds like night hawks...but this just wasn't anything like those. I began to just try searchwords like: banshee... and up came a youtube with Eerie Fox scream. I played it and that was it! A FOX! Right up by our tackhouse, near the horse pen, only yards from our house. Hard to believe but the sound was unmistakable. I played about four more youtube clips of foxes and found in the comments left that many other people had had similar encounters with them and had come away as terrified as I. It was a huge relief to finally know what was out there. I was very grateful to the owl who had temporarily accepted the blame. His comment on the fox's scream was a blessing since I was able to just go on with my evening instead of hiding in the house waiting for Kevin to come home to cope with I knew not what! Nothing he could have done about it, either.

Go on youtube and put in Fox Screaming Eerie and after listening to that one, try Screaming Fox? On the second one, the person posting it wasn't sure what he'd recorded, but many commenters identified it for him as a fox. The part of that sound clip past the middle is exactly what I heard, only MUCH louder and closer. For those who live in the country, DO listen to this so you'll not have a heart attack if it happens to you! I have no photos to show of this; somethings just aren't visual!

Social skills

Well, Fuddruckers may not seem the best place to begin teaching a not-yet 2 year old social skills, but, everybody's gotta start somewhere!

Men and gadgets. Learn from your elders; they know all the shortcuts.

Look in the mirror (that's Biblical). Practice expressions.

Be content with what is already in reach.

Let loved ones back you up.
Don't keep score.

There are many expressions which can be interpreted more than one way. Practice those. If you get down a half dozen of them; they'll serve in all kinds of circumstances.

Appreciate Who has you in their arms.

Study humor.

A true story

One day a long time ago, there was a middle-aged woman who was prim and proper and dressed to the hilt. She was all ruffles and curls and posture-perfect. She showed the utmost honor to her husband and devotion to her mother. She was a wonder to behold.

That woman was me.

But that was a long time ago and it was just that one day. Actually, it was just one hour of that one day.

The End.

I didn't want you to miss this story since it does illustrate how important it is to preserve the past. Or at least a few moments from it.