Tell me I'm not alone

It was New Year’s Eve. Just the two of us. No party. No alcohol. Just him watching football, me and my favorite Cary Grant movie, “Charade.” We watched the ball drop in Times Square and off to bed we went. Big whoop.

So what brings on the 3 a.m. thought of electric appliances cluttering my closets, shelves, cupboards and other hidey-holes? I have no idea, but since I was in need of a topic this week, here goes.

Growing up a very long time ago, daily life was pretty much the same as it is now when it came to running a household. Food had to be prepared, clothes had to be washed – the basics. Of course, a roof had to be overhead, but I’m thinking more about the things that needed to be done on a daily basis and how we’ve evolved, appliance-wise.

I came along after refrigeration, thank goodness, so I never really dealt with an icebox, except for the summer cottage way back when. We had a washing machine, but it needed to be rolled to a water source to be filled with a hose. The wringer-roller part was electric, squeezing as much water as possible from the dripping laundry. The tub emptied of soapy water and refilled with clean water for rinsing.

While the next load was being agitated, the first basket of laundry was taken to the backyard clothesline for drying in the sun and, hopefully, a breeze. In the winter, lines were strung throughout the basement, where things hung for a couple of days until dry. Then one day, the appliance man delivered a dryer to the basement. Still, if the sun was out, it was quicker to hang the laundry outside than wait for the dryer. Plus, the sheets always smelled so much better.

Sidebar: I still have a clothesline and hang the sheets out to dry in the summer – the glory of living in the country.

Growing up, my brother and I were the dishwasher. That was one major appliance we never had until we finally had homes of our own. Doing dishes together has been a time-honored bonding experience and remains so to this day. The dishwasher will only hold selected pieces, leaving oddball items to be hand-washed. Anyone interested in drying?

As for the more mundane, smaller appliances that seem to have taken over my kitchen, the list has grown to an amazing length, and I know we don’t have nearly as many “things” as some people.

The kitchen I grew up in didn’t have a microwave. The stovetop and oven did the job in their own sweet time. That was just the way it was. The can opener hung on the side of a kitchen cabinet. No electricity involved. It swung out of the way when not in use.

Before we had an electric toaster, we had one with flip-down sides that required a constant eye, as the bread toasted one side at a time. If it got too toasty and started to burn, quick action was needed with a kitchen knife to scrape the burnt stuff off. I can still see remnants of black crumbs stuck to the butter from the scraping knife.

Before we knew it, the kitchen filled with small electric must-haves. The mixer took the place of the spoon and egg beater. The can opener was taken down and replaced with an electric one. The coffee maker took the place of the coffee pot. A George Foreman grill took the place of the skillet. And don’t forget the crockpot, the nut chopper, cheese grater, waffle maker, pancake griddle and, of course, the hot air fryer.

So many appliances, so little room to store them. Where will middle-of-the-night musings take me tonight? Maybe down a path leading them away, cords dangling, to someplace where they’ll see more action than in my kitchen.