Over the summer, my fan died. One day it worked fine, the next day it was pushing up daisies. Somehow I didn't have the heart to throw it away. But, lately I've been in a "if-you-haven't-used-it-in-a year (or longer) it's-time-to-get-rid-of-it" mood, so yesterday it got walked to the curb for the trash men.
Off I went grocery shopping. But all the while I was picking stuff like kitty snacks and not-too-ripe banasas from the shelves, I was thinking about how much I loved my blue fan.
Back I came. And there sat my fan.
I bought it just after I moved into my first house. It was $25 at K-Mart and it worked great. It worked so great, I went back a month later to get another one and they didn't have the same model, but I bought one anyway. It has long since gone to fan heaven.
My Dad, who passed away last year, would never have tossed out a useful item without trying to fix it first. So, in view of all my neighbors, I retrieved my fan from the trash and brought it back inside. As I suspected, it wasn't broken at all. But it had been living near our forced-air heat run for the last 17 years and it was full of dust. (Ick--we're breathing in all that crap all winter? Oy!)
With just the first shot with the mini shop vac, it started to run again, but then I took the back off and really gave it a good clean with vacuum, compressed air, and a dust cloth. Now it runs like new.
All the time I was cleaning it I felt like my Dad was standing behind me giving me advice. And best of all--I got my beloved fan back. (Just in time to retire it for the winter. Oh well, you can't win them all, eh?)