We said good bye to something that’s been in the flat for a long time yesterday. A well-used English kettle with a portly body, the fogged up glass from years of limescale and a lid that no longer fits in place was sent the way that most UK electricals now go…to the slums of India to be recycled with the rest of our shameful waste.
There was no love lost in the binning of the device. It’s been a great ally in life, so many teas drank and a welcome aid to a quick pasta lunch, good times. But it was on its last legs.
The kettle was over 10 years old which in kettles years is 10 years I gather. Its travelled to around 3 different abodes across two separate counties. I don’t know about other kettles but I’d guess this one is the equivalent of an adventurous human holidaymaker. Not quite sticking to the package tours but not leaving everything for a trek across somewhere barren in somewhere hard to pronounce, unless your pretentious.
I should have taken a moment to reel off atleast one Schwarzenegger style signoff as I dropped the appliance into the bin, ‘let off some steam’ I should have said or something equally inappropriate but kettle related, liek, erm….’whistle why you work’ maybe?? Its possible my subconscious realised I would struggle with this task and moved things on.
That kettle saw action in Essex where life and dreams were different, trying yerba mate for the first time and wishing for an I.T job with months (over a friggin year in fact!!) of unemployment, to Bristol with mortgaged accommodation , an I.T career of sorts and child guardianship.
Me and my flatmate changed so much and so did the kettle in a way as it grew older and a lot less efficient.
The kettle was purchased by my flatmate in the same month we met those 10 years ago. To see it binned was to shed a little more skin , something that’s been in the background for so long and played a small but significant role in the rich tapestry of, ok ok this is a bit much , but it was nice to reminisce even over the retirement of something so under appreciated as the family kettle.
That kettle just kept on giving right until the end , if you could see me now you’d see I am dry eyed , but to end on a nice point imagine I’ve just wiped away a small tear as I had a brief but perfectly contented leisurely stroll down memory lane. Makes the ending better , I promise.
Now go on, go put your kettle on, it’ll love you for it (the environment won’t though).
