Day #9 - Dad's Dirty Ethics

I was very disappointed a few years ago when my yellow Dyson Vacuum conked out on me. Those vacuums are expensive so I decided to get a cheaper version - I think it was a Dirt Devil or maybe even a Hoover. Well, that didn't last long either so when I moved to my new house a year ago, I purchased the Purple Dyson hoping to have better luck this time.

I am sorry to say the last few weeks and off and on over the last few months it seems the Purple Vac is losing suction...I run over a piece of string 4 times and it still isn't picking it up. I decided to investigate the thing instead of just emptying out the canister to see if I could discover a way to fix it.

Sitting on the floor with the purple disappointment upended and sitting in my lap, scissors cutting through thick hair and string that had got caught around the roller over time, I was reminded of my Dad. I don't know how many times I sat by him on the floor when he emptied the bag of dust and grime that had accumulated inside onto newspaper in the family room. I think the bag was permanent so you couldn't just take the bag out and insert a new one. I remember when we had to go through the grime because a suspected treasure had been sucked up and I remember my Dad taking that thing apart to de-clog it and how he would sit with the vacuum in his lap cutting the hair and grime out of the way.  This was the first thing I tried and the reason I knew what to do is because, as a kid, I watched my Dad.

I think I learned a strong work ethic from Dad. I think he must have traveled two weeks out of every month and when he was home he seemed to constantly be working on projects. We would weed with him on the weekends, he would let us help him work on the house hanging sheet rock (he'd let us snap that blue chalk line maker - our favorite part), we would watch him build our forts, the playhouse and swing set, the dog kennels and other animal shelters and we would watch him painstakingly stain the redwood house every 5 years using scaffolding all around the tall walls. And BOY would Dad sweat hard. I remember it would drip off his nose and he ALWAYS had a hankie in his pocket or tied around his face, ALWAYS - I sure picked up my Dad's sweat glands.

I'm not saying I loved to work on the weekends, lets face it we all had it pretty easy as kids with Mom only really giving us chores on Saturday and helping to clean up Sunday dinners on occasion, but now the memories stand out as good ones for me. I can also go on and on about my Mom, but I will save her for another day.

I am glad my Dad's strong work ethic was so visible to me growing up. I believe it became a part of my character and that of my siblings, through his example. Thanks Dad.

I Am Grateful,
HB

P.S. In case you are curious...I discovered a clog of gum wrappers in the tube that runs from the rollers to the canister...The vacuum is not perfect, but at least it is picking up string again.