Thursday, January 31, 2008

For those who have forgotten

This is what winter looks like, at least from Greg T's perspective.

(Thanks Dude!)

Isn't his back yard pretty? I think so. It's the kind of scene that makes me wish for some cross-country skis and a large block of unscheduled time to go 'round schussing through quiet white woods, watching for squirrel prints and spying the occasional red holly berry clump or flash of blue jay.

If I could cross-country ski. In my fantasy life I'm ever so much more talented than I am in reallife, don'tcha know.

I like winter in many respects. There's nothing at all like a good snowfall to ramp down the mind's whirl, because something happens to sound and light in the snow to mute the brashness of a regular day while giving the world a sparkle of the unusual. Snowy landscapes, when pristine, are some of the prettiest things around. I like cold-reddened cheeks, sledding, skiing, snowmen, snow angels, the way dogs look when they run through new snow. I like the blue light of early evening in the woods, the thud of clumps of snow falling from tree branches, the shimmer of icicles in the morning light.

Doesn't last though. When the snow turns gray with road salt and dirt, when slush comes, when the driveway becomes impacted with ice, when the snowshovels become as familiar as your own two hands, I get sick of winter. I like the notion of winter. I do not care for its practicalities.

Just thought you'd like to know.


My dryer tried to learn how to walk this morning.

This dryer is a "it came with the house" item, just like the washing machine (with little sparkle heart stickers permanetly stuck to the tub - how cute!) and the refrigerator (that counds like it's going to come apart when the compressor kicks off - how worrysome!). The dryer too has "issues"; in this case, that it makes godawful squeaking noises when it's in operation.

No, really, they're horrible. Like a gigantic mouse caught in a trap kind of awful. Like fingernails on a chalkboard for the ENTIRE CYCLE kind of awful. Like Fran Drescher's voice kind of awful.

And it's getting worse. At first, the squeak was intermittant and bearble, and would go away for periods of time. Then the squeak became more constant, but could be largely ignored if the door to the laundry room was closed.

But now. NOW, the dryer always squeaks. It always squeaks loudly. It squeals, actually, squeals in protest of being asked to do its JOB, and I for one am nigh well tired of it.

A little online research seemed to indicate that perhaps the belt needed a lube. SO, the belt was lubed (oh yeah baby). The plastic guides at the top of the drum were also lubed, just for good measure. The whole works was put back together, a load of laundry inserted, and OMG - no squeaks! I thought a miracle had been worked, until it became apparent that the thing was squeaking because, in fact, the drum wasn't MOVING.

Too much lube can be a bad thing, apparently. Who knew?

Once the excess WD40 was wiped away, the drum did in fact turn again, but recommenced the squeaking at a volume slightly louder than before.

I'm afraid to use it now. I hung a whole load of laundry all over the kitchen and laundry room last night because I was certain that at any moment that complaining beeyotch of a dryer was going to burst into raging flame.

It certainly made for a festive look, what with the tee shirts over the backs of chairs and underwear draped all over the washing machine. Why, the Queen could have come for a visit and I couldn't have ben prouder to have her in. Come in, Queen! Come see my undies, my workout wear, some sox and bras - it's all here for your enjoyment and perusal, just no touching or I'll have to chuck you out on your royal ass. Thanks ever so much.

However. Even tho the tees and sox dried just FINE overnight in the Sahara-dry air of the Tiny House, there was one pair of jeans that needed to be dried this morning before demanded a quick trip in the monstrous hotbed of anger that is the dryer. Damp jeans = chafing, and that's just not acceptable. There was nothing for it. The dryer must be activated.

So, I braved turning on the dryer, heaving the one pair of jeans in, slamming the door abruptly, and snapping the "start" button smartly as if to show the machine that I meant BUSINESS and it had better cooperate and play nice.

At which point it began to shudder violently and make a noise somewhat akin to a drag racer's engine firing up. Now, because I am a woman of great wit and quick thinking, I forgot all about opening the dryer door to turn off the Great Animation of the Hotpoint, and instead twisted the "start" button on to "start" again. What I thought that would accomplish, I don't know, but whether it was coincidence or whether that action fixed something, all at once the shuddering stopped and the dryer.ran.quiet.

No, really. Perfectly quiet.

"I am a worker of miracles!" I thought. I had vanquished my foe! Success!

For one minute. At which point the squeaking began again. However, the squeaking came sans shaking and airplane noises, so that was a bonus. Still, gah! The problem remains. My godlike powers of communication with and healing of household appliances was just a bit of ephemera. How disappointing.

So, I come to you, wonderful internets. Any idears on what the problem is? Do I need a whole new dryer, or can I take apart this one and lube something else and that should fix the problem?

Or, hey - anybody need a slightly used and possibly possessed large appliance? I've got one - cheap!

No comments: