The everyday blog of Richard Bartle.

RSS feeds: v0.91; v1.0 (RDF); v2.0; Atom.

Previous entry. Next entry.

9:14am on Monday, 4th September, 2023:

Washing Machine


Last year, my mother's washing machine broke. The fact she'd put a rug in it might have been a factor. Anyway, we bought her a new one for Christmas. She didn't get a lot of use out of it, as she was in and out of hospital for weeks at a time, so by the time she died in March she can't have used it more than 5 or 6 times.

We didn't want to discard a nearly-new washing machine, so when I cleared her house I took it home. We don't need a new washing machine, though, so it's been sitting in our summer house since May.

Last week, on the village Facebook page that replaced the old wanted/for sale ads that used to be the bread and butter of newspapers, there was someone asking if anyone had a washing machine for sale. The (anonymous) buyer was 21 weeks pregnant and the seal on her washing machine had broken, spilling water everywhere and doing something bad to the motor. I offered to give her ours for free, if she could arrange collection and get someone to plumb it in.

Yesterday, she accepted the offer but asked if we could bring the washing machine round.

Hmm. Well I do have a little hand trolley, but she lives about 500 metres away and I wasn't confident that I'd be able to get even half that distance without either dying, having the washing machine fall off the trolley, or (most likely) both. I said we'd try to get it in the car.

I knew that getting a washing machine in the back of our car was possible, because that's how I got it here from my mum's. It takes two people, though. Fortunately, my wife is stronger than she looks and was able to help.

When we arrived at our destination, we were greeted by a young woman who was indeed pregnant, although she looked more like 30 weeks than 21. She was very pleasant and very grateful. She hadn't really thought through the impact her facial tattoos would have on her make-up regime, but she was quite sweet. She offered to help, but an older woman (whom I took to be her mother) said no, she'd do it.

The older woman turned out to have muscles like steel. She could probably have got the washing machine out of the car on her own. I don't know what she does for a living, but either it involves a lot of heavy lifting or illegal steroid intakes. She also had facial tattoos, which looked a bit like Chakotay's out of Star Trek: Voyager. She also said that she could plumb in the washing machine, which saved me from grudgingly having to do it.

We could probably have sold the washing machine, but it's good to see it going to someone who needs it, doesn't have a lot of money and is a genuinely nice person.

I'll be so cross if I see it for sale this week.

Latest entries.

Archived entries.

About this blog.

Copyright © 2023 Richard Bartle (richard@mud.co.uk).