Vive mon Bosch

If you have followed this blog for any length of time you will know two things – I am allergic to housework and I’m a shaman. I believe that everything has a spirit. Following a four-day Mexican stand-off with my vacuum cleaner during my husband’s absence for a family do in the UK, I finally decided to put shamanism into practice and coax the spirit of the machine. When you have picked yourself up off the floor from laughing, ask yourself when you last spoke/shouted/swore at your computer, expecting it to have an effect – not quite so nuts, eh?

So first off I realised it needed a bag…or something, but I had no idea where they live. I asked the machine which sighed and pointed me in the direction of where it lives and oh yes, there they were. So I asked it to co-operate and between us we fiddled and farted around getting a new dust-bag in even if bits of cardboard did fly in all directions.

Noticing that his name is Bosch I laughed because that was the French nickname for the Nazis during World War II so I decided to spirit link by singing with him (he is a male by the way … think about it). I often use song to link in with objects, trees etc. Not knowing the words to the national anthem I decided to sing the hymn that was banned in British churches (oh yes, hymns can offend your God, can they?) and Boshy seemed to like it… sung to the tune of the German Anthem.

He even showed me how to remove what must have been a rather painful blockage in his ureter (or what would be a ureter in a human) so I poked it with an ash stick and we got the lumps out and after that things went swimmingly. To the point where I offered to give him a nice rub over with a damp cloth because he was looking a bit dusty and it can’t be much fun having people tread on bits of you with their feet all the time, even if your designer intended it that way.

Yes, he has a spirit. We have clicked. He does not like being called a “hoover” because he isn’t. He’s Boshie. (Bolshie when in a bad mood).

So if you ever come to the Bingergread Cottage and hear me giving out this hymn full-operatic, you’ll know that I’m doing the floors, with Boshie trailing along behind, gobbling up the dirt.


5 thoughts on “Vive mon Bosch

  1. Vive le Bosch indeed!
    I agree so called inanimate objects have spirits. My shower hates me. I don’t know why. It regulalrly refuses point blank to provide water, prefering instead to emit a very annoying beeping noise and indicates the water pressure is low. It never does it when my husband pulls the cord and presses the button. I have to fool it. I pull the cord and press the button and it complains. If I tell it I’ll get Gavin to come and sneak into the bedroom and go back a minute later and repeat the operation, it works! Everyone in the family thought I was mad so I showed them. I did what I had to, it complained, they did the same routine and hey presto! They even thought I was doing something wrong but seriously, how many ways are there to pull a cord and press a button? I know I’ve gained weight, but not enough to cause the water pressure to fall. I don’t weigh as much as my husband by a long shot (yet) or my son and weigh far more than my daughters and grandsons.
    I am going to go and talk nicely to it. Iwon’t offend it further by singing and hope it works cos Gavin isn’t home and I’m going out!

  2. I used to have a loo that you had to sneak up on to make it flush – visitors could never work it out and would be shut in the bathroom for half an hour, too embarrassed to come out

  3. I agree things have personalities. And my house has plenty of personality too. Doors, cupboards, taps…But I think we’ve come to respect each other (most of the time!)

  4. The thing about his urethra really made me laugh. Out loud. Oh and a note of reassurance. I’m certainly no shaman but I talk to inanimate objects all the time. I tell my car to belt up when it shows me the light to tell me there’s no traction control when there patently is, or shows me the little yellow ‘service me’ spanner for no reason – or at least no reason good enough for it to stay on if I turn the engine off and start it up again. My son is convinced that my car is called Darth. I thought something more like Reepicheep – the mouse that roars. They’re all at it though. I think it must be the weather. Both the washing machine and my computer had a loop today.



  5. Thank you! I just KNEW I wasn’t the only one – I even say hello to the house when I come back from a few days’ absence!
    My little yellow van, Custard, and I chat away together and my old 2CV Henri used to tell me when he needed oil – no lights, just a moaning sound in my head – I’m huuuuuuuuuuuuungry!

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