On Saturday afternoon, as I was trying to get the damn house vacuumed because it had been three days since I had last vacuumed, the goddamn Dyson shit the bed.
Now, to be clear (because I don’t think I ever wrote about it): one year and one month ago, I bought the then-brand-spanking-new Dyson model, the Dyson Animal DC25. I’d had the DC07 for six years, and although I was cleaning the filter and canister religiously, it really wasn’t working as well as it should. And to be honest, the fact that it didn’t fit all the way under the cupboards in the kitchen really bugged me.
So I got the DC25, and loved it at first. And then a month later I vacuumed something up that caused a big hole in the hose (which is totally NOT the Dyson’s fault, I know that), and had to buy a new hose. And then the plate on the bottom chipped and had to be replaced, and then something else broke and had to be replaced, and then it worked okay for several months. On Saturday I was doing the vacuuming, and the roller bar stopped turning, and I fucked around with the goddamn thing for an hour, getting more and more pissed off, and I couldn’t figure out what the fuck was going on, and then I hit my FUCK THIS wall and just like that I fell out of love with all things Dyson.
I put the Dyson in the garage and got the old one – the DC07 – out of the closet and used that, and it was still the clunky dinosaur that made me buy a new model last year. And it didn’t do nearly as good a job as the DC25.
So for now I’m going to use the Kenmore canister vacuum cleaner that’s been living out in the garage (we bought it when we were renovating the house, when Fred was refinishing the stairs, because the Dyson just refused to suck up all the dust, and Fred’s father recommended the Kenmore for the job.) and I’ll likely take the Dyson to be repaired as a backup vacuum cleaner (you hear me, Dyson? YOU ARE MY BACKUP, NOT MY MAIN SQUEEZE ANYMORE. YOU DONE DID IT TO YOURSELF WITH YOUR ROTTEN ATTITUDE, YOU FUCKER).
Granted, I KNOW I’ve been hard on the damn thing, I know that sucking up 63 pounds of cat hair, stray litter and dust three or four times a week is bound to put a strain on a vacuum, but really. You pay that much for a fucking vacuum, you expect the goddamn thing to MAN UP AND WORK RIGHT.
One thing I learned this weekend when I demanded people recommend vacuums to me – something I really should have known – is that there’s really not one answer. Some people still adore their Dysons, some people love their cheap $35 vacuum they got 15 years ago at the flea market, it really all depends on the person and their requirements. You’ll see tons of recommendations for something like the Miele, and then plenty of people saying they don’t think it’s all that. It’s kind of a crapshoot, is what I’m saying.
(But those of you who suggested your vacuum on Facebook Saturday, thank you. I spent more time Googling information about various vacuums than I could ever have imagined – and found it strangely interesting!)
Starsky and Hutch have gone off to (drumroll please!) Indiana! A reader of thishere site fell in love with them and adopted them. She drove down Friday to get them – we met at the shelter – and reports are that they are doing just fine. There are two older cats in the house AND a dog. They’re okay with the cats, but aren’t thrilled about the dog just yet. I knew they’d be fine, but of course you worry, especially when they’re half a day’s drive away. Once I met Jennifer, though, any concerns I had were pretty much put to rest because she’s AWESOME, and I loved hearing about how excited her 11 year-old was at having kittens in the house.
They’ve got new names (for the record, when I come up with names for our fosters, I always assume they’re going to be changed when they’re adopted.) – Hutch is now Percy, and Starsky is now Jack. (Jack’s one of my favorite names EVER, but Fred’s stepfather’s name is Jack – thus the reason we don’t have any cats named Jack!)
Jennifer said she’d send some pictures in the future, and I expect it will be very cool to watch the boys grow up.
So that’s the story of where Starsky and Hutch are now! And yes, we do miss their silly little faces a lot.
Oh, how the Bookworms love Jake and Elwood! Reacher, especially, loves them. You can usually find Reacher about three inches from one or the other (or both) of them.
Reacher has reached overload, apparently.
Corbie and the grays.
Coltrane hanging out in the (heated) cat shelter on the front porch Saturday morning. He’s been back inside the house a few times, but doesn’t stay for long. Tommy feels the need to sit and stare at him. Coltrane finds it a bit disconcerting, and asks to go back out.
Previously
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: And then last night I was informed that people would start showing up between 9 and 9:30 (for a meal that will take place at noon), so I spent two hours cleaning the house whilst shooting hate rays at Fred.
2006: Barium scars a motherfucker for life.
2005: But I could manage a paper cut/ in the name of love
2004: “Oh, my heart,” I moaned.
2003: This perpetually surprised look of Michael Jackson’s makes me laugh until I wheeze.
2002: “YES, JESUS CHRIST! I DIDN’T KNOW IT WAS GOING TO BE SUCH A FRIGGIN’ BIG DEAL!” I bellowed. “I NEEDED TO BE AT MY COMPUTER, BECAUSE THAT’S WHERE THE PHONE NUMBER WAS! JESUS!”
2001: No entry.
2000: I’ve visited Wal-Mart three times in the last five days. I think they’re about to name a parking space after me.
1999: F: In Michigan, you can take this bottle to the recycling center and get ten cents for it.