We got a new kettle yesterday.

The old one was still functional despite having served us for many years. The problem was that the on switch had become detached. This happened in stages. Over a year ago the outer casing of the switch broke off and has since been waiting on the window sill for a fixing that never came.

Last weekend the inner lever of the switch left us leaving no trace of its whereabouts. It just upped and left. To the woods, as my old granddad might say.

It was still possible to switch the kettle on by inserting a finger into the void and digitally manipulating the inner mechanism. This, it was decided, was a step too far and we made the decision to get a new kettle. Maybe one that goes with the toaster.

And that's what happened.

This morning my wife experienced a pang of regret. Before even opening her eyes to the light of the bedside lamp she said, "I miss my old kettle".

She had never previously expressed any overt attachment to that little old kettle. In fact it was she who pushed for a new one. And as soon as we installed the new one she was quick to chuck the old one out of the flat onto the communal landing. In the dark under the bust light bulb.

By the old fish tank with the broken filter and the small box of bathroom tiles.

We've lived over 24 hours now with the new kettle and it is proving a welcome addition to the family. It has already made valuable contributions, boiling water for tea and stock. I look forward to many happy years together.