It arrived on a Monday morning,a small,square unit on wheels,like an armless R2D2. I let it settle for the requisite three hours,and then plugged it in. A light came on,it made a satisfying whirring sound and began,gloriously,to suck.
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I sat on my bed,transfixed. Every few minutes,I’d hear a delightful trickling sound as the moisture from the air gathered was transferred to the tank. Every couple of hours,I’d check the tank to see how much water it had collected. A quarter of a litre,a half a litre,one litre,two… By the end of the first day,I was exhilarated to discover that it had extracted an entire tankful - two-and-a-half litres of water! I poured the water reverently down the sink and,as it drained,I felt as though I’d rid my home of demons.
Two weeks later,I am completely obsessed. Each morning,I move the machine to a different room and leave it to work its magic. Each evening,I excitedly check the tank and thrill at all the liquid that has been siphoned from my home. The dehumidifier gives me a daily sense of fulfilment. No matter what I have achieved,or how I have failed,that full tank of water feels like victory and progress. It is as rewarding as squeezing pimples,without the scarring or pus. It is as gratifying as exfoliating the dry skin on my feet,only wetter,and less disgusting.
My air fryer and steam mop,once my favourite appliances,now sit neglected and forlorn. I rush to my dehumidifier as I would to a beloved child. Emptying the tank is the favourite part of my day. It is the gift that keeps on giving,quite literally because the planet keeps getting warmer.
I know,of course,that running another appliance isn’t helping the environment. I know,too,that my dehumidifier is but a Band-Aid on a larger problem. But I can’t tell you how happy I am that my black leather jacket remains mould free! Now I just need the world to stay cool enough to wear it.
Kerri Sackville is an author,columnist and mother of three.