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My love/hate relationship with my washer

M and I have a combined washer/dryer.  Some days, I love it to pieces.  When it’s pouring rain outside and I need to do washing, I love being able to turn it on and walk away, knowing that in a few hours, I’ll have toasty-dry-fresh clean washing.  I don’t use the dryer all that often, since it’s (a) really noisy and (b) really power-thirsty, but it’s good to know it’s there.  It’s a front-loader washer, too, so it uses less water than a top-loading machine would. I love that, because frankly that’s a huge concern in a chronically-short-of-rain place like Canberra.  Despite using less water, it does a fantastic job of washing things, getting them all fresh and crispy-clean.  There’s a lot to love.

However, there are some things I don’t like about my washer.  One is that, being a front-loader, I can’t do any (deliberate) felting in it.  Not that I need to felt things all that often, but it would be nice to have the option.  The other is that my washer is a little too controlling: if I turn it on and then realise I’ve dropped a shirt or forgotten to sling some socks in with the rest of the load, then I can switch it off — but it will make me wait a full five minutes before unlocking the door and letting me put anything else in, even if it hasn’t starting filling.  When the drying cycle is done, it will keep the door locked until it is satisfied that it is no longer hot enough to pose a threat to me.  Quite frustrating, and it means I can’t sling in a couple of towels to warm them before my shower, as I used to love doing.

Still, I can handle surrendering a certain degree of control.  But there are some things I struggle with.

Remember these babies? My lovely cashmere socks, made with the leftovers from the Desert Monkey socks, accidentally went through the wash.


I’d be more angry, but they’re so damn cute now that I can’t stay mad for long. Look at them, with their iddle widdle toes.  Still, now my handmade sock stock is reduced by one pair, which is a little frustrating.


I’m growing increasingly sympathetic to the philosophy of Resistentialism – the idea that objects are against us (les choses sont contre nous).  Maybe my washing machine is a resistentialist.  If it is, I had better be nicer to it.  What flavour washing powder do you think it likes?

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