My mother taught me never to publicly speak about religion, politics or sex. However we all know I'm an inveterate rule breaker. (so nah nah neh nah nah Mum) This week I'm going to touch on resurrection, which is I feel, an appropriate Sunday post. Later in the week, if I have enough guts and am in the mood to shock your socks off, I have a post lined up about sex.
Last July a very much loved and important member of our family died...Oh how we missed the warm caring comfort of our loved one.
That's right folks- our tumble dryer kicked the bucket. Still spinning but no hot air...spinning doesn't help the clothes dry folks. If it did, my washing line would be a tumble dryer and this post wouldn't need to be written.
It's been sitting up there on the wall in the laundry ever since. We managed to survive last winter without it. Of course our house looked like a freaking Chinese laundry for most of winter which annoyed me no end. Wet clothes are right up there with smeary kitchen benches on my annoyance scale.
I finally decided this week we needed to bite the bullet and let the dryer go. At $80.00 for call out and probably $60 for parts plus labour it just isn't economical to fix it. I decided some smart person on freecycle probably had the know how to fix it. Family debate then ensued about whether we would get another tumble dryer...but that's another story ( Audra at the Frugal Missus has just had the same issue with her microwave...and the boys sneakily outvoted her, without actually taking a vote ) I advertised it, selected the recipient , arranged and confirmed a 2 hour window for a pickup time...then nothing..he just doesn't show. Pretty Rude.
Mr. Pyjamas got pretty peeved at the non attendance since he had pulled the darn thing down from the wall so he decided to pull the back off the unit and take a look. I'm not sure how the two became connected. I'm imagining instant electrocution because he works in finance not electronics. While he pulled the unit apart I ran and checked our superannuation and life insurance policies to see how well off I was going to be if he fried himself, and then hurried back to make sure he didn't, by offering completely unhelpful suggestions about what he should do next. I don't work in tumble dryer repairs either.
Mr. Pyjamas pulled about 5 kilos of burnt compacted fluff out of the housing near the element, screwed the dryer back together, threw some wet towels in and I witnessed the resurrection of our tumble dryer, which now appears to work perfectly. I also gained a new understanding of how a house fire from a tumble dryer might conceivably happen.
Thanks Rude Dude for not showing up yesterday. And thanks Mr. Pyjamas for not getting electrocuted. Now I can warm my undies again before I put them on during those cold winter mornings.