You've heard me say it: the Lord and the dumpster fairies will provide! Before I offend you, let me clarify that I believe that the dumpster fairies ARE God! Because, to me, God is ALL magical and wonderful things (that makes me a Universalist if you're denominationalizing)! And my God has enough of a sense of humor to let me characterize Him as dumpster fairies without getting offended. So let's just focus on the wonder of it and not get all caught up in the particulars!
I am of the very strong opinion that one of the greatest things on the planet is a Rainbow vacuum. If you've never had the Rainbow vaccuum experience, then, as far as I'm concerned, you just haven't lived. And you CERTAINLY haven't vacuumed! (By the way, did you know that "vacuum" is the only word in the English language that has two u's in a row? Just thought you shouldn't go through life without knowing that important piece of trivia!)
A Rainbow vacuum is a glorious, wonderful thing. It's a canister vacuum that has the suction power of a car wash vacuum, happily eats everything in it's path without complaining, and uses a water reservior instead of a vacuum bag which allows it to clean the air while cleaning everything else in sight. They retail for around $1500.
Alas, the water reservior has been my downfall! (Don't let that be a knock against Rainbows to you -- just a knock against my easily-distracted, A.D.D. ways.) I will stop vacuuming to answer the phone or make someone a sandwich or run to pick the girls up from school with the absolute intention of returning immediately to vacuuming. A week later I'll walk by the abandoned vacuum and my heart will sink because that dirty water in the reservior has, in a week's time, turned to incredibly smelly swamp water. This is not too terrible in itself but the eventual effect of such repeated misuse is that the bearings in the motor rust and then my precious Rainbow just STOPS. And I grieve.
In the past, I've gotten on Ebay and found another used Rainbow for $150-$250 and just gone on vacuuming as soon as the UPS man delivers it. I've done this more times than I care to admit. But we now live in a different economy in which, for me, there is no Ebay and no UPS man and no replacement Rainbow vacuum. Tears.
I killed my most recent Rainbow about three years ago. I've been watching and waiting ever since. I've killed several lesser vacuums in the interim as well because killing vacuums is one of the things I do best and I am very proud of it (well, not really, but it helps to try to act positive about it)! I've prayed -- well, not actually PRAYED because that would be kind of insulting to God because He and I have bigger issues to discuss when it comes to prayer -- but I have wished fervently to happen upon another Rainbow. And I've been waiting. The local Salvation Army sells all vacuums for $20 regardless of make or model so what I was really hoping for was to happen on a $20 Rainbow at the Salvation Army. That, in itself, would have been miraculous! But God is even better to me than that!
This morning as I was driving the girls to school and trying, largely unsuccessfully, to see through the foggy windshield, I saw a shape on the curb in front of a house a few doors down the street from mine. I couldn't tell what it was through the fog but I could see that it had a piece of white 8 1/2 x 11 copy paper taped to it on which, I was sure without even seeing, was that glorious word "FREE". As you may have guessed, I stop to check out all free things on the curb. I hit the brakes just as the mysterious shape came into focus: a Rainbow vacuum, in all it's divine glory! And, indeed, the sign did say "FREE". I gasped in awe and delight at the sight of it and jumped out of the car!
From the back seat, Sara-Grace started wailing, "Noooooo Mom! I'll be late for school!". My sensitive, motherly response: "I don't care! It's a Rainbow!" I grabbed my prize and threw it in the back of Bonnie-the-clown-car as Sara-Grace continued to wail.
In a deep state of joy and satisfaction and gratitude to a loving God who really does understand my lowly domestic plight and menial desires, I got back into the driver's seat and proceeded onward to school. Tessa, from the passenger seat, just gave me a knowing smile and a slight, resigned bow and shake of the head and said, "You're going to blog about it, aren't you?"
Of course I am!