There is something therapeutic in washing dishes by hand rather than sticking them in the dishwasher.
My earliest memories of being part of the ”big girls,” aka my aunts, was of helping them wash and dry dishes after family meals, pre-automation. My Aunt Annette always washed by hand, even when homes became supplied with dishwashers. She enjoyed that task. She relished talking to those who helped her, basked in the sisterhood of a shared goal, and definitely passed that appreciation to me.
As I washed my gold-rimmed china from Sunday evening’s dinner, I thought of Annette, who made a simple and necessary job a joy. I can still hear her laugh and see her smile. She will forever inspire me to scrub those pots and pans properly – and to be liberal in using a dry dish towel when necessary! Thank you, Auntie.