I’m with the “If it ain’t broke, don’t replace it” crowd.

 

So much so that I’ve been using my mother’s kitchen blender for at least 25 years, and she used it for probably a good thirty years before I got it, so it’s a true relic. Her Hamilton Beach has been used, dirtied, and cleaned for so many decades that smudges on the outside are permanent. I tried scrubbing them off using every method and abrasive known to humankind. No dice.

 

 

So yeah, it is/was old, but I’m at least ten years older and I still work fine (no one has tossed me in the trash yet). And the kicker is that every time I used it, I thought about my dear departed mother (gone 25 years as of next month), so I was in no  hurry to replace it. Using it  often reminded me of the bent fork she saved and wouldn’t allow me to throw away, claiming it as her beloved “Krissy fork.” When I asked for clarification, she said, “You dropped this fork into the garbage disposal one time when you were washing the dishes while visiting from California, and when I turned it on and heard this terrible racket, I found the fork. I call it my Krissy fork.”  (Oh, for heaven’s sake.  *sigh*  Her precious bent Krissy fork.)

 

But I get it now: kitchen accessories as precious keepsakes. I have been using my precious Mommy Blender ever since she passed.

 

But this morning when I tried to use it, it smoked and smelled like it was about to burst into flame

 

So, sadly, I asked Jackie if I could use her blender until I could replace Mom’s next time I go out. Hers is a Ninja.

 

She responded, “Mom’s?”  I said, “Yeah, I got it from Mom.”  She chuckled and shook her head.

 

I could just hear her thinking, “Kris and her and-me-downs.” (My van came from Jackie. My bed came from Jackie. Many of my fondest memories come from experiencing life with Mom and Jackie!  I collect hand-me-downs, physical and emotional!)

 

Then she said, “Sure! But I hardly ever use it. Why don’t you just take it and I’ll come and get it on the rare occasions when I need it. And if it breaks before then, you can buy another one then.” (Yet another hand-me-down!)

 

Sounded like  a great plan, since she usually always gets top-of-the-line stuff. This Ninja probably cost at least $125 new.

 

So, I carried the Ninja into my kitchen to pour the Greek yogurt/cherries/peaches/cranberry juice concoction from Moms’ blender into the new one.

 

THE FIRST PROBLEM

 

Jackie handed the new contraption to me in two parts, the motor and the blender “headset” (or whatever the hell you call it). When I put it on the counter, I twisted the two together easily enough, but didn’t really pay attention to how I did that. It seemed more or less intuitive because it only fit on the motor a certain way. And then I promptly forgot about how it went together.

 

I had trouble getting the lid off, and Jackie had just headed out the door, so I had to figure that out without help.  (She didn’t give me the manual that came with it.) After I finally figured it out, I transferred the concoction from the old Hamilton Beach into the Ninja and shut the lid.

 

THE SECOND PROBLEM

 

I poked, prodded, and even searched the length of the power cord looking for the ON switch.  There was no ON switch! What the hell???

 

As luck would have it, Jackie re-entered the house momentarily (she had forgotten something she wanted to take along) so I asked her how to turn the damned thing on.  She said, “Just a minute…” and headed into her side of this duplex-like abode.

 

By the time she reappeared, I had figured it out.  (Turned out I needed to press on a part of the lid to get the blender to work. Jesus, what will these manufacturing geniuses think of next?!)

 

It’s a lovely blender! I totally love it. It does a great job!

 

BUT THEN… 

 

When I tried to separate the two parts again so I could pour the beverage out and wash the blender, I couldn’t figure out how to do that …  and Jackie was gone again!  So I had to lift the entire piece, pour the beverage into a cup, and then wash the blender while it was still attached to the base. There were two little pyramid icons on the bottom, so I tried pushing both of those, thinking one of them might separate the two pieces, but no. (I still don’t know what those two little pyramids are trying to tell me. Maybe that the unit is aligned?! Jackie, where’s the manual that came with this bloody thing?!  I hope she still has it and knows where it is!)

 

It was AFTER I had cleaned the blender that I figured out to twist it sideways on its base motor to release it. That did the trick.  The two pieces separated like a charm.

 

But now I feel like a real relic.  When I can’t even get a freaking blender to do its thing without having multiple crises along the way, it makes me wonder how I’d do in a new vehicle if I ever needed to get one. My van is approaching 20 years of age. All I can say is it better get me to the end of my driving days, because it could take me a week to find out how to run  a newer model vehicle!

 

HA!  With any luck at all, the self-driving ones will be out before that happens and I can just get into a new model and say, “Home, James!” or “Winco, James!” and it will take me there without muss or fuss.

 

Jeepers creepers…