I went down into the deep, dark recesses of our basement to do my least favorite chore this morning…laundry. I put a load in a couple days ago but had forgotten about it with the kids being around for Thanksgiving and all. I was not a happy camper when I opened the lid to the machine. The clothes were still pretty wet. Apparently, the spin cycle didn’t do its thing. Thinking that it was just unbalanced…sort of like me, I tried it again. Now it smelled a bit like burning rubber. Yikes!
Not knowing how to handle the situation and with sinister visions of laundromats dancing in my head, I stuffed the pretty wet clothes into the drier and turned it on. It refused to turn. #%^#*!! Curses! Washers and dryers never go bad at the same time. That’s one of those Laws of Life. That’s why you always have a mis-matched pair.
Well, I was wrong about the dryer apparently. Greg, having a cooler head when it comes to laundry based appliances, decided it was just that I overstuffed the damn thing and when he unstuffed it, it worked. So Michael, our local appliance repairman, will be here this afternoon to fix the washer, I hope, because I don’t want a new washing machine. He thinks he’s coming to fix the dryer, too. I wonder if he’ll be happy or sad to find out that only one of those machines needs his attention. I’ll let you know if I remember to.
This wasn’t what I had intended to write about today. I was going to post pictures of brown things and come up with some “words of wisdom” concerning the changing of the seasons, philosopher that I am. But now, all I have on my mind is that damn laundry. I’ll post the pictures I have ready, but I have no words of wisdom, they are awaiting a repaired spin cycle.