My dishwasher gave up the ghost 6 years ago. My husband suggested we replace it on the day it died, but I assured him I didn’t mind hand washing dishes. I’ve done so ever since.

My dryer died last Sunday. It was full of half-dry laundry and another load was awaiting its turn in the washing machine. Said dryer is several months younger than the washer. Both are 22 years old.

The half-dry laundry was spread through the house on available surfaces to finish drying and the wet load (jeans and sweats) were hung over the deck railing to dry. With the immediate crisis under control, we sat down to discuss options.

“I’ll put up a clothes line”, I suggested.

“The washer won’t last much longer either.” My husband countered.

That was true and as we were talking we remembered the advanced age and deteriorating condition of our refrigerator.

I was stalling. I didn’t want to purchase major appliances. Not right now.

My husband did. His arguments made sense.

“You are 60 years old”, he said. “You need to be making things easier on yourself instead of harder. You need a dishwasher too. It kills your back to stand there washing dishes, doesn’t it? The refrigerator won’t last much longer, we both know it. Why not do it all at once?”

Eventually I gave in.

The order was placed.