Thursday, August 09, 2007

Washer Woman

The washing machine died. It didn't just stop working. Oh no. First it let me strip all the beds, load it up with lots of towels and jeans, filled itself with water and then it stopped working.

When I finally managed to get the laundry back out of it again it had started to smell a bit funny. Being a bit of a clean freak I couldn't bear it, so finished the load of washing by hand, in the bath tub.

Wet towels and jeans are amazingly heavy when you can't spin dry them. I actually sprained my wrist, and not in a fun way. As I pegged out my exceptionally soggy washing in the hope it would drip dry (and in a state of anxiety in case the line snapped and all my back breaking labour ended up in the duck shit) I had a flash of inspiration. There are numerous holiday cottages on the estate, surely there'd be one with a washing machine. If I was lucky, there may be an unoccupied one with a washing machine!

I was lucky! The cottage was a mile and a half up the road, but that was still better than having to wash all my kit by hand, in the bath.

So that is why I have been a little quiet this week, on the blogging front. I have been spending all my spare time trekking up and down the road with my baskets of washing. I have been on a mission to wash as much as possible before the holiday cottage is occupied again tomorrow, in the hope we will then all have enough clean knickers to last until the new machine arrives.

11 comments:

Anonymous said...

Now if you were really, really, cunning, and had a cunning plan so cunning it made most cunning plans look stupid, you would have borrowed a suitable vehicle from lovely warden and simply switched over the washing machines, saving endless trips with the washing....

Doris said...

That is exactly what Mr Sparrow suggested. I am clearly not as devious as the male of the species...

stitchwort said...

And, having wrestled with the plumbing, given yourself a hernia shifting the thing (they all contain a large lump of concrete, you know), got it into the vehicle, out agin at the other end, heaved it into the kitchen -

you'd have found it wouldn't fit the space, and you'd have to take it all the way back again.

Always look on the bright side of life, de dum.......

Anonymous said...

If she'd been really really really cunning it would've been Mr Sparrow nursing the hernia ! (But perhaps he's on a promise!)

Anonymous said...

Maybe you've become a local "character"! I used to do my washing with one of the boys I was living with, but he used to laugh at my underwear.

Betty said...

... er, on the plus side, all that trekking up and down the road with baskets of washing is no doubt keeping you fit and will add years to your life expectancy.

It also gives you an insight into the lives of women who used to take in washing for a living. Perhaps you ought to start leading the grating as well (whatever "leading the grating" means).

Boz said...

If it were me I would be tempted to 'accidentally' spill something on lovely wardens shirt and offered to give a quick spin, like all those awful washing powder adverts form the 80s. That's because I'm a shameless hussy.

"Is it spin drying? I hadn't noticed."

Poor lovely warden. He doesn't deserve this kind of abuse.

Mildred on the other hand...

Anonymous said...

I lead the grating...I lead the range too for that matter... (nah nah nee nah nah!)...butI wouldnt laugh at despinas knockers though. Does this make me a new man?

Anonymous said...

whoops - an absolutely classic mistype (or has Doris been mischievous?) For knockers read knickers!

Anonymous said...

cogidubnus - I'm flattered, humbled, and appalled! I'm used to being a source of mirth for all :)

Doris said...

Stitchwort - you are quite right. I would have been sure to have injured myself trying to move it, and would have been caught, incapacitated, hunched over the sack trolley.

Cogi - I could never risk Bert like that! He needs to retain his flexibility.

Despina - were they particularly amusing undergarments?

Betty - I now understand why washer women had such burly arms, that's for sure.

Boz - I shall bear that in mind next time I take Lovely Warden a carton of Ribena.

Cogidubnus! You've gone all Carry On!

Despina - I would *never* laugh at your knockers or knickers (well, not unless they had comedy slogans across them or something).