Washerwoman Revisited

Ah. Emergency solved. Out with the old and in with the new, almost new. Slightly pre-loved isn’t new but it’s new to us. Here at the House of Cluck-Cluck there is a lot of dirty dirt to wash out of our clothes, or try to at least. So our Smart washing machine that is now sitting in our washroom is almost ready to go, and wow us with its pulsating efficiency that makes waves inside the big 8 kilogram tub. So far I like the settings better too because there’s a quick wash and it’s broken down by fabrics, which is much different than our last machine, currently enjoying an afterlife on the paddock behind the chook house. But I made the mistake of reading the manual that goes with this washing machine and it seems to be longer and more detailed than my book. I have never read so many interesting facts about a washer in my entire life. Nor have I been warned in such a myriad of ways about what not to do, such as putting ones hand under the machine while it’s running. Not something I’ve ever considered nor would I allow my grandson to fall into it while it’s on or off. There are many gems like that in this manual that I think I must study, as I will be tested tomorrow when I wash the few pieces that have accumulated since yesterday when the old machine kicked the bucket.

I think I will be a real pro after a few more study sessions although English wasn’t the first language of the person that wrote or typed this manual. So maybe I’ll just be a tad smarter about this Smart washer or a tad more confused. I’m not sure. Normally I just pretend I know what I’m doing since I hate, despise and abhor manuals. They seem to highlight my lack of attention to their technical details when I just want to get on with the job at hand, like washing. I am so impatient that I’d rather wing it than learn how to use it properly. But after reading the entire manual for this washing machine I might be able to turn it on and then will have to refer to it again to set the machine. That’s right. It goes in one ear and out the other without engaging my brain in the least, which is turning to mush at a faster rate while reading this fascinating information warning me of everything that could happen on earth to this machinery. Maybe I should take out an insurance policy on that future event that could happen if I’m not careful. Who knows who’s gonna put their hand under my machine when it’s on its cycle. You never know what a visiting neighbor might do in the country.

Knock knock. I heard you got a new washer. I’d like to see it so I can put my hand under it on the ground when it’s on.

Are they kidding? I don’t think so. They’re just covering their bases and their asses with as many disclaimers as they can think up. Hopefully I can ignore their fear mongering long enough to do a load successfully because there’s no river close by and I’m plum out of rocks to pound my dirty clothes with…

I did buy some very nice biodegradable, natural cleaning products from America though, that will clean out the washer thoroughly and be gentle on my clothes. So I am one lucky washerwoman. These products do everything but bake bread.

There’s only one slight problem. It was late when I did our first load with the new whirring wonder in the other room, so I had to hang the clothes on our wooden clothes hanger that’s suspended with a pulley system attached to the ceiling in front of our woodburner. But of course it rained all night and most of the day as my newly opened red roses demonstrate. Oh well. I think it will be dry tomorrow and I can get to the few things I have lined up for my new magical appliance. It’s so quiet that I finally realized how loud the other machine was. The ecological biodegradable, natural soap and stain stick worked wonders too as did the brightening mixture that wasn’t chemical bleach. I’m really thrilled now that the old girl kicked the bucket. That washer never really got the clothes that soft or that clean and it made so much noise and was always going out of balance, then beeping continually until one tried to fix that issue, which often only lasted a minute until it beeped again.  I stayed up quite late stoking the fire to make sure that Jake’s mismatched socks would dry close to the open firebox. Good thing I did that. He had to get an early plane this morning and wet socks wouldn’t have been much fun.

Silly John left our one small wall dryer at our vineyard property and we’ve never bought another. I don’t mind hanging out the clothes on the line. It reminds me of when I was little and my mother was doing the same thing that I do now. I wrote about that in my book on page 265, Chapter 89, called Full Circle. Watching her doing her laundry chores was very symbolic for me and I have gone full circle back to simpler times when I do the same. I find that very comforting in this day and age. I believe it’s called domestic bliss. Hmm.