I have always had the bad habit of infusing inanimate objects with emotions and memories. Whether it's a certain smell that takes me back to laying on those blue mats in Pre-K at Kids Kondo (my childhood daycare), or coming across a book that I adored and ending up transported back to the bedroom I had
when I was 6 years old, or going to Gram and Gramp's house for dinner, and having Gram's homemade shepherds pie, I am very easily sucked back into my past.
For some strange reason, I found myself confronted by a memory earlier today. It was of Gram's older than god Kirby vacuum. She got rid of it several years ago, and upgraded to a Dyson (I adore my Dyson, so I can only imagine she was happy with the decision... of course, I'm one of those weird people that really, really loves to vacuum).
Anyway, I found myself remembering Gram's old Kirby today. I'm guessing it was from the mid-70s. It was this monstrous thing that had to weigh a billion pounds, at least. It had this steel head with a light built into it, and a giant, itchy, uncomfortable, wool-like plaid vacuum bag. The rest of the damn thing was either steel or thick burgundy plastic.
The most hysterical thing I remember about this giant, heavy, monstrous thing was watching my 90 lbs, 5' nothing grandmother whip it around the house like it was nothing. She would flail it around, gathering crumbs that my grandfather scattered around the house like he was the guy that taught Hansel and Gretel everything they knew.
Not only would Gram vacuum like a boss, but she would haul that giant thing upstairs, to hit the bedrooms and hallway, and then down two flights of stairs so she could vacuum the den (they lived in a 2.5 story house).
Does anyone else ever just remember some random fixture of their childhood, for no apparent reason?
That random, unsuspecting nostalgia is always a bit off-putting, but entirely welcome.
Love to you, dears.
-L
 |
| This may not be a good thing.... My 6 year old bedroom was kind of horrendous. |
For some strange reason, I found myself confronted by a memory earlier today. It was of Gram's older than god Kirby vacuum. She got rid of it several years ago, and upgraded to a Dyson (I adore my Dyson, so I can only imagine she was happy with the decision... of course, I'm one of those weird people that really, really loves to vacuum).
Anyway, I found myself remembering Gram's old Kirby today. I'm guessing it was from the mid-70s. It was this monstrous thing that had to weigh a billion pounds, at least. It had this steel head with a light built into it, and a giant, itchy, uncomfortable, wool-like plaid vacuum bag. The rest of the damn thing was either steel or thick burgundy plastic.
 |
| Gramps, me, and my tiny, adorable Gram. |
The most hysterical thing I remember about this giant, heavy, monstrous thing was watching my 90 lbs, 5' nothing grandmother whip it around the house like it was nothing. She would flail it around, gathering crumbs that my grandfather scattered around the house like he was the guy that taught Hansel and Gretel everything they knew.
Not only would Gram vacuum like a boss, but she would haul that giant thing upstairs, to hit the bedrooms and hallway, and then down two flights of stairs so she could vacuum the den (they lived in a 2.5 story house).
Does anyone else ever just remember some random fixture of their childhood, for no apparent reason?
That random, unsuspecting nostalgia is always a bit off-putting, but entirely welcome.
Love to you, dears.
-L
 |
| From what I can recall, this is the giant Kirby that Gram had. However, I haven't seen it since I was a kid. I had to go on memory, and a Google Image search for "old Kirby plaid bag". |
Whenever I see a Kirby (or picture thereof), I'm reminded of The Brave Little Toaster.
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