Widow Twanky

I could fund our renovations by opening a laundry. 

We have two washing machines, one tumble dryer, and one washer-dryer – I’m all set. 

Except I’m not.

Old Norman’s washing machine has been driving me nuts.  It’s a small quibble, but when it’s finished it has to be turned off, then left for a minute, then you can open the door.  When the washing machine’s in an icy unappealing corner of the house, having to remember twice to deal with the laundry is a bit too much for me.

I initially thought that as well as my just hating Norman’s washing machine, it was also a shame to use it because it’s so uneconomical – no fuzzy logic, no great spin.. but now I’m not so sure.  I’m never tempted just to put a couple of items in the wash.  I wait until we’re desperate, till we have no pants, till Ruth’s got no school uniform left.  A full load every time – that has to be efficient.

So Ian agreed to switch over to one of the other washing machines.  Pretty straightforward, just pull the machine forward and switch over the pipes – but no.  The machine’s so old that there’s a hot and cold pipe… and they’re both stuck.  WD40 made no difference.  We’re going to have to get a plumber. 

Meanwhile, clambering through to the washing machines and tumble dryers to do any laundry now is like making your way through the jumble of furniture at an antique market to examine the forgotten commode in the corner, except that you have to do it with a basket of smelly washing under your arm.  Laundry has become so much fun.

The timer on the boiler’s also stuck, but fixing the timer that means we have to have the heating on full time doesn’t seem so urgent.