This past weekend everything broke.
First, on Saturday morning, the washing machine lost its mind and began throwing water all over everything. Water filled the back hall and migrated into the bathroom. It soaked three rugs so thoroughly you could hardly lift them. It also leaked down into the cellar and flooded the table we use as a tool bench. We have one of those nifty folding suitcasey things in which every screwdriver and awl, every plier, pincer and nut nestles in its own contoured bed of molded plastic. Alas each one of these wee beds was also waterlogged. You wouldn’t think a hammer could float but ours seemed to be doing just that.
I did the wash for the rest of the weekend by turning on the main water valve and standing there while the tub filled, turning off the water while it agitated, turned it on again to bring on the rinse, tuned it off again to supervise the spin and so on. This method worked pretty well, galling as it was to spend my time this way. The repairman can’t get here for days, the shop says.
Then the toilet in the downstairs bathroom became similarly unstable, leaning dangerously – almost like a skittish horse – when you sat down on it. We tried tightening it but that’s not as easy as it looks. When toilets go wrong, experience has taught us you pretty much have to loosen the bolts, pull the thing clear out of the floor, buy a new beeswax collar to act as your seal, and jam it down again as hard as you can and then retighten the bolts. I have seen my man do this before, but this time we both thought well the plumber guys are coming anyway… So we kind of just closed the door to that little room and went on with our weekend.
Finally, things got really bad when, last night, the case on my Kindle wouldn’t fold up nicely, that seemed like the last straw. The little lamp is attached to the case and if the case won’t fold right, the light won’t illuminate the ‘page.’ What will I do?” I moaned to David “How will I get to sleep if I can’t read in the dark?”
He took the Kindle from me; checked the places where it attaches to the case; unbent the case a little and – voila! – the fault lay in a plump red Gummy Bear that somehow got lodged in there somehow. Sigh. David can do anything. Maybe tonight when he gets home from work we’ll tackle the washing machine ourselves. And I have to say I find it strangely thrilling to see him with hoist 140 pounds of porcelain and bring it in for a landing… What a man!