So last Wednesday, as is my occasional wont, I was doing laundry. One load through washer, into dryer; second load into washer. Go down to take first load out of dryer, and discover that (a.) the washing machine is full of water, (b.) there's a distinct smell of burning in the basement, and (c.) the washing machine will not go again.
Phooey, says I, and call the nice appliance repair people, who cannot make it out until Monday. I spend the rest of the day drying the INCREDIBLY SOGGY load that was in the washer when it gave up the ghost, and we hunker down.
Monday, the nice appliance repair guy comes and within ten minutes has diagnosed the deadness of the washing machine. (A gear in the transmission--and I didn't even know washing machines had transmissions--froze, broke, and burned through a belt on its way to Valhalla.) We need to bestir ourselves to buy a new one, and we're working on it, but we haven't got there yet.
This is relevant, because
heres_luck and
renenet are going to be here for Thanksgiving, and boy it would have been nice to be able to wash the blankets the cats have been nesting in.
::sigh::
I can, however, vacuum, which leads to domestic little scenes like the following.
[TRUEPENNY drags vacuum cleaner into small front bedroom]
FORMERLY FERAL NINJAS: Crumbs! A balrog! [vanish]
ELDER STATESCAT: [nesting on Truepenny and Mirrorthaw's bed] Ahem.
[TRUEPENNY turns on vacuum]
ELDER STATESCAT: [sings] We shall not be moved ...
[TRUEPENNY finishes with small front bedroom, drags vacuum into master bedroom]
ELDER STATESCAT: [sings (2nd verse)] We shall not be moved ...
[TRUEPENNY works way across room withbalrog vacuum]
ELDER STATESCAT: [sings] We shall not be mo-oved / Jails cannot hold us / Liberty enfolds us / We shall not be-- Oh bugger.
[ELDER STATESCAT flees, in a huff]
[TRUEPENNY finishes vacuuming ... for now.]
FFN: [from hiding place] Perfidious consorting-with-balrogs biped!
All shall love me and despair.
Phooey, says I, and call the nice appliance repair people, who cannot make it out until Monday. I spend the rest of the day drying the INCREDIBLY SOGGY load that was in the washer when it gave up the ghost, and we hunker down.
Monday, the nice appliance repair guy comes and within ten minutes has diagnosed the deadness of the washing machine. (A gear in the transmission--and I didn't even know washing machines had transmissions--froze, broke, and burned through a belt on its way to Valhalla.) We need to bestir ourselves to buy a new one, and we're working on it, but we haven't got there yet.
This is relevant, because
::sigh::
I can, however, vacuum, which leads to domestic little scenes like the following.
[TRUEPENNY drags vacuum cleaner into small front bedroom]
FORMERLY FERAL NINJAS: Crumbs! A balrog! [vanish]
ELDER STATESCAT: [nesting on Truepenny and Mirrorthaw's bed] Ahem.
[TRUEPENNY turns on vacuum]
ELDER STATESCAT: [sings] We shall not be moved ...
[TRUEPENNY finishes with small front bedroom, drags vacuum into master bedroom]
ELDER STATESCAT: [sings (2nd verse)] We shall not be moved ...
[TRUEPENNY works way across room with
ELDER STATESCAT: [sings] We shall not be mo-oved / Jails cannot hold us / Liberty enfolds us / We shall not be-- Oh bugger.
[ELDER STATESCAT flees, in a huff]
[TRUEPENNY finishes vacuuming ... for now.]
FFN: [from hiding place] Perfidious consorting-with-balrogs biped!
All shall love me and despair.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-24 01:46 am (UTC)