I'm writing this wearing completely clean clothes. All of them. Every stitch. Even my (ahem) ...SOCKS.
(What? You thought I was going to say "underwear"? Then I would have said it! See? I said it. But those are clean too.)
Yeah, our washing machine has been broken for a week, will be for another (*crushing sigh*) ten days while we wait for the pump, and I'm pretty happy about having clean clothes, however temporary. (I can't stand not being able to machine-felt.)(You see my priorities? Underwear can be done in the sink.)
I'm also enormously relieved because I thought I broke the washer. It hasn't worked properly since three feltings ago, when the pillowcase came out with one of the securing safety pins missing. Since then I would bind the pillow case shut with I-cord, but the spin-cycle wasn't the same. The repair guy absolved me, charged us half the price of a new washer, and doomed us to dirty clothes. Or long visits with family on the other side of town. I think we'll pick the latter.
That doesn't really tell you much about me, so here are three sort of random things: I love zombie movies, I love to bake (and I'm really good) (REALLY good; I'll take some bakery as payment for laundry room usage, it'll go over well), and I love to knit with Emerson Cod. It pisses me off to no end that there are no new episodes of Pushing Daisies. "Reality" TV doesn't do it for me.
The rest (and there's plenty more) you'll be finding out as we go. It's best to do these things slowly. More merciful that way. Don't ever buy that "rip it off like a Band-Aid" line. It's bunk. Well, most of the time: when it's really a Band-Aid, it's the wisdom of the ages.