the tradition of washing a ham

Our washing machine broke last week. Its history is quite fascinating. So here I write a eulogy.
The washing machine was in our possession for around 21 years. At the time of its 'death,' it bore its age with several rust spots, but otherwise functioned well until the end. But the thing that got this particular washing machine into family history occurred around 11 years ago. To protect the dignity of individuals, a royal 'we' has been adopted.
The washing machine, as calculated by its age at 'death,' was in its zenith during this particularly memorable weekend of 2000. We were having a family over for dinner, and to entice them to come [side note: apparently bribes are necessary for dinner dates] they were told that we would be having a glazed ham [another side note: I actually don't like ham].
So the day of the dinner, we took the ham out of the freezer and, seeing that the sink was dirty, decided to thaw the ham in the washing machine. After all, it is a large container, hooked up to water, and pretty clean. Quite the logical decision. So we filled up the washer, omitted the soap, and stuck the ham in with the washer lid open so that it would not cycle through. Probably would have worked. But the lid ended up getting closed. I'm sure you can guess what happened.

So, yes, the remains of the ham were: the plastic netting, an additional plastic wrapping, and several handfuls of completely shredded ham that lined the inside of the washer. I must brag about our washer at this point, because it had washed the taste and smell out, too. We tried a piece of ham for fun, and it was like chewing water. Interesting sensation.

We gathered up what we could of the ham and put it outside for the neighborhood dogs, but not one expressed any interest--probably because it didn't smell like anything edible. It was the cleanest ham I have ever seen.

Unfortunately, the washer was a bit clogged with ham particles, so we had to call a repairman. A touch awkward, that. I'm sure he thought we were completely daft. How did a ham get in the washer? Oh, you know, we like our food to be clean; Don't you wash your ham? Regardless of what he thought, he did an amazing repair job because that washer lasted another 11 years. A real fighter, that machine.

I find it completely appropriate that its last load (the load that broke it, actually) left the rinse water rather pink-ish.

Our new washer is rather more up-to-date. My brother swears it's a time machine. Highly unlikely, but it does mark the end of ham memorabilia and the beginning of bigger and better things. I think we could fit a couple turkeys in the new washing machine....

By the way, that family that we had invited over ended up eating spaghetti and meatballs.