Perhaps it was bound to happen. Eight years old and the plastic had gone brittle, and as I flipped it over to check for crud on the bottom of the vacuum, the head of the vacuum separated from the rest of the machine. Darn.
I must be a bad minimalist, as I have a back-up vacuum. When I first moved out on my own (twelve years ago! where does the time go?), I bought a tiny little hand-held vacuum that managed to keep my horribly dark blue berber carpets clean (or so I thought – they were dark blue, how could one even tell if they were clean or not?) I used it sporadically before obtaining my full-size vacuum when we moved into our current place in 2003. Since then, the back-up vacuum has done little else than take up space in the closet. I think it’s a bit fortuitous that having decluttered nearly 6000 things this year, and I never thought to get rid of this secondary vacuum. Yay me.
Even funnier was when I broke the vacuum, my three year old piped up and said, “Uh oh, the vacuum’s broken. I’m sure they sell those at the thrift shop.”