Being fifty something, I subscribe to the baby boomer creed of “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it”.
It makes sense for the planet and the hip pocket to only replace things that no longer do what they were designed to do. Not when fashion or vanity dictate.
My resolve was tested recently when I decided to whip up some home-made pesto using the last of the basil from my herb garden.
I dragged out my ancient food processor to get some pesto whizzing. My trusty old Breville Kitchen Wizz looked no match for the ones I’d seen on cooking blogs and TV programs.
Mine was a wedding present; that makes it thirty-two years old!
It has quite a vintage look about it, a bit of eighties mission brown, a boxy shape and nothing sparkly or shiny happening at all.
It’s a bitch to clean and almost impossible to fit in the dishwasher.
It’s cumbersome to get out of the cupboard but not pretty enough to leave out on the bench.
But … it ain’t broke.
It still does exactly what it was designed to do.
It whizzed that straggly basil, garlic, oil, parmesan and pine nuts into a lovely jar of pesto.
When I served the pesto last night, stirred through chicken and pasta along with a beetroot salad my twenty-something son was impressed enough to snap a pic for Instagram.
We even toasted the ancient Breville Kitchen Wizz with a glass of red.
I hope, when I’m ancient and looking a bit vintage, with brown bits and a boxy shape, that someone takes heart and decides not to replace me.
I hope, when I’m a bitch to clean and almost impossible to maneuver into the shower, that someone will take the time to soak me in a warm bubbly tub.
I hope, when I’m cumbersome to get out of bed and not looking sparkly, that someone will make the effort to lift me up and bring me out to share in whatever’s going on in the world … and toast me with a glass of red (even if I am broke).
Time to make room for my ancient Breville Kitchen Wizz on the bench, methinks.
I’m warming to its charms.