Ordinary Blessings
Hot water and clean clothes, mercies indeed.
The washing machine quit, right in the middle of swishing around a full load of bedding. The machine sat still, its drum full of water and setting forth the genesis of laundry begetting yet more laundry by the minute on the floor by its side. It was hard not to sigh, and I probably didn’t try too hard not to.
I was so happy with this machine: an older, boxy, refurnished Kenmore that didn’t have any of the screens or bells and whistles that promise the sparkling world of high tech cleaning but deliver a Twilight Zone of never ending “load weighing” and a slow wash sashay of seemingly indifference to the actual amount of laundry I need to do every day. The first time I did a wash in my new-to-me top loading Kenmore with the clunky buttons, I was amazed at how fast it did the job and how it energetically slapped the buzzer down to let me know.
But that was five months ago. Now, I had to consider how to pull out a hundred pounds of soggy comforters and not flood the floor in doing so.
I considered where I was in the rotation of laundry and decided to wait a few days until the weekend, where I could visit a laundromat alone with a good book and lots of quarters. I had zero idea what money the machines actually took nowadays, as my only recollection was carrying pouches of pounds and pounds of quarter dollars into such places.
Meanwhile, I texted my church thread about recommendations for repair. Five seconds later, one of my friends sent me a private message ordering me to bring all of my laundry to her place. Well, not exactly “ordering”; she did in fact ask politely. But we do share that stubborn streak of, “I’m going to make it real difficult for you if you don’t accept my help here”. So I crammed my car full of kids and trash bags full of laundry and off we went.
Six hours later, our laundry was finished, our bellies full of tacos, and we, completely refreshed, returned home with renewed energy to call for repairs.
And that’s when we noticed the oven was completely dead.
Say what you will, it’s awful nice to have Amazon deliver so quickly. Two days later, we were set up with an electric kettle and a hot plate. It’s one thing to have a wood stove to cook your food on, but who wants a 80 degree kitchen in the middle of spring?
I do, that’s who. Especially when procuring hot water for tea and coffee is involved. Instead, reason reigned and I treated myself to a coffee from the bakery (which may or may not have come with a cookie) when I went into town for the mail. Although I’d call it more of urgent care than a treat.
I telephoned and discussed my repair needs with someone across the globe speaking via underwater cables and scheduled the appointment.
I should mention that the dryer had been going out. Oh, it still worked, but you could tell by its squeal when it got going that it wasn’t too happy about it. Somehow it wasn’t quite the emergency yet; after all, I can hang things to dry. But when the washing machine went kaput, I wasn’t too excited about plunge cleaning my dirty clothing in the bathtub. The trap doesn’t hold water real well, anyhow.
Four days later, the repairman backed up his white box truck and lumbered up to the front door with his blue tool carrier. Just getting the diagnosis was going to cost me close to $150. For each appliance. If you’ve lost count, that is now three.
I took him down the basement and left him to assess the situation. Five minutes later, he climbed back up and wanted to talk to me. I didn’t feel good about it only having been five minutes.
“The dofijeureo is broken and unfortunately the eoifeeffee and the foiefren are parts that Kenmore no longer makes. There is no way to repair it. Credit card please.”
Back down the stairs he went to assess the dryer. Five minutes later, he climbed back up.
“There’s no serial number on the dryer lid so company policy dlfijeofjefndkfndkfhdifenfeknfefnd so I can’t even look at it. No charge.”
Please please please fix my stove and oven, I was thinking. Hot water. HOT. WA.TER.
Five minutes later, he flagged my attention. It’s awful hard to water the garden when you’re getting called in every five minutes.
“Yes?” I said.
“Looks like your element is out and ouer9feofjeofefereoj but I don’t even have that with me and dkfjdoifjeie $54 but you can get one for less than 30 dfje9jefjefoejfefjeojf and unfortunately I can’t do any other diagnosis without the element in but you can 9u3edjfldovodiof. Credit card please.”
And just like that, I wished him a good day, waved the truck off, and came back inside $300 poorer and still without working appliances.
“This is ridiculous,” says my husband.
“I know.”
“Why can’t we just get appliances that are simply made and last for decades? Back in my day, my grandmother foejfeoifjeoifujefeofejfe……………………………”
Yeah, and I also remember when light bulbs gave good light and didn’t need replacing every other week. But now I’m just being crabby.
I liked Jase. He heard the exact specifications of what we wanted at the appliance store and in less than 15 minutes we were sold a brand new washing set. We bought a Speed Queen washer and dryer, old school knobs and all, and as it turns out, it does the job even faster than the old Kenmore we somehow killed. And although warranties are nice to have, the repairman as he was leaving told me he had seen exactly four Speed Queens in all the years he’s been working. Maybe I’ll have aging appliances after all, to knock on and show my small grandchildren and give them fodder for the stories they’ll tell to their own families when they’re grown.
I did dangerously wander around the duel fuel ranges a bit, and found one I knew I’d cook three gourmet meals a day upon and crank out dozens of baked goods besides because that’s just how pretty it was. However, the cost came nothing close to a $27 oven element. So.
Ironically, I wasn’t so interested in the dishwashers, even though I’ve had a hole for the past year in my cabnetry where one used to reside. My son does an amazing job cleaning the dishes our household of nine uses every day, but he is graduating from high school this year (homeschooling kid number 5!) and it’s probably time to relieve him of that endless chore.
I dreamed of asking Jase for a package deal.
I’ve got two more days until the oven element shows up. It’s ok. The BBQ works, the hot plate works, the electric kettle works (thank you, Jesus), and the crockpot works. For good measure, I bought a waffle iron and now we’re addicted to fresh waffles all day long. Stuff breaks. Times change. Since the fall of man, we’ve been living in deteriorating times and it doesn’t matter how many towers of Babel we build when the materials get worse and worse. Over time, it all crumbles no matter how pretty it is.
My water is now bubbling (and, oddly, lit by blue lights). I’m off to make a coffee and play Trouble with the six year old while the machines are chugging downstairs. I’m so thankful for the simplicity of piles of clean laundry to fold in my cozy home, what a blessing for the ordinary.
Oh, have I got appliance stories for you................. We married in 1980. My husband got a job in a town of about 600 people. Only one place to rent. We had to live there. He was the new town cop. A 1950s 10 X 55 mobile home was all there was. It took a week to clean. A motorcycle gang had lived there. Bad doesn't begin to describe it, but when we were done that aqua blue range and refrigerator gleamed. Sinks, toilet and bathtub also aqua blue. Really retro. No place to put a washing machine or dryer. There is no laundry mat in town. We bought a tiny apartment size portable washing machine. I stored in in the tiny second bedroom. On laundry day, I rolled the little washer into the bathroom, hooked up a hose to the sink faucet, put the drain hose into the bathtub and beginning filling the basin. When the wash cycle ended the water drained into the tub. I then had to move the very wet clothes to the spin basin which was next to the wash basin. That spin cycle worked like a charm. It was like those spinners you find in the locker room at the swimming pool. Hung wet laundry outside on nice days. Inside on a rack on cold days. Jump forward several years and we buy our first home. 3 kids by now and we moved to a rain forest. There will be no hanging clothes outside to dry. Our budget demanded used appliances vs new. We saw an ad for a washer/dryer set for $100 and jumped on it. When we picked it up the owner says "oh and heres the roll of contact paper. You set the dial on regular. Close the lid and then smack the dial with this" That was the only way to get the mechanism to kick in and get the motor running. We used that $50 washing machine for 2 years and had to smack it with the roll of contact paper for every load. Finally, that no longer worked. We had a repair guy come in and replace the dial and it's innards. It worked for a while longer. Then the dryer died. My husband, who was now a policeman and a fireman, knew of another fireman who had a side job of repairing appliances and reselling them. We bought a dryer for $50. It was coin operated. We took the front of the coin box off so we could reach in and keep using the same quarters to get the dryer going. I told our kids, "Don't you even thinking of "borrowing" those quarters. They stay with the dryer." When my sister came to Alaska to visit from Colorado she said, "Is there anything I can do?" I said you can move the clothes in the washer to the dryer. The quarters are in the box." She went downstairs and I told my daughter, "Aunt Patty does not believe we have a coin operated dryer." Patty came upstairs and said "What in the world???" I knew she did not believe me. If God gives you a coin operated dryer you thank Him and keep track of the quarters. Amen