Everyone knows I am far from a domestic diva. I do cook meals for the family everyday, but most of it comes out of a package or box. I clean house just so I know where things are, and generally I'm pretty unorganized.
The one thing I do lots of is laundry. I love myself some clean clothes. I like the way they smell and feel. I like the way they look when you fold them all up and stack them on top of each other. There's nothing better than having drawers full of clean clothes. So when the clothesmaster 2000 stopped working last Thursday night, it was a tragedy. The eldest Miller daughter had just finished overloading the machine with every piece of clothing she owns and I had dumped in a load of Goodwill wool sweaters to be felted. So you can imagine how stressed I was when I opened the lid and realized that the water was not draining from 50 lbs of wet wool.
It took a week for our favorite repair man (J.R. at Colonial Repair...tell 'em Amanda sent ya) to get to fixing it. Now I was okay till I started running out of underwear. I toyed with idea of going to Laundromat, but quite frankly sitting around guarding my favorite pair of Westie undies from marauding laundry bandits is not my idea of fun. So I stuck it out and kissed J.R.'s feet after he proclaimed the machine healed on Thursday afternoon.
And for all those interested, washing machines can't run with two dollars in loose change rolling around the pump system.