I was so proud of myself.  I didn’t have to get up early this morning because the delivery truck on Friday is always late but I did anyways.  I thought I’d try to get a load of laundry done.  Laundry has been trying as of late because our barely two year old front end loader seems to be having problems draining.  We aren’t sure why.  We’ve tried snaking pipes and finally resorted to hauling in the garbage can and redirecting the washer hose to flow into it so we could monitor what was happening.  Sometimes this works, sometimes it doesn’t.  It’s so frustrating to keep getting the “F-21” code and not knowing why.

This morning seemed to be one of those rarer moments when the washing machine was working.  I was happy to see the water draining into the garbage can and decided it was O.K. to head off to work.  Only trouble was I couldn’t find my keys anywhere.  I quietly crept around trying not to wake anyone when I had the sinking feeling that I had left my keys in the capris I had worn yesterday while delivering, the same capris that were now in the washer that was actually working properly for a change.  There were only ten minutes left on the timer.  I thought I could wait ten minutes.  When the timer got down to one minute I just sat there and watched my van keys go round and round.  When three minutes had elapsed and the keys and laundry were still going round and round I had to laugh.  Above the timer it reads “Estimated time remaining”.  Seems my washer isn’t very good at estimating.  P joined me and I filled him in on what was happening.  We watched the keys go round and round for another 15 minutes all the while the estimated time remaining was 1 minute.  Do you have any idea how long 18 minutes can seem when you are watching laundry go round and round and thinking it will finish any time soon?  I do!

I finally shut the washer down, retrieved my keys and went my merry way to deliver papers.  Poor hubby spent the rest of the afternoon trying to coax the washer to please drain and spin and give us some clothing to dry.  You know there’s something wrong when the timer estimates one minute remaining and eighteen minutes later it’s still spinning and rinsing.  The longest minute ever tells me I need to get this looked at.  Either that or I have to start taking the laundry bar down to the lake and find me a big rock.  (That was hubby’s solution!)

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