Holy Smoking Washing Machines Batman!

Ok - so I'm SORT of habitual about this whole blogging thing.

This is like the third time this week! Yea me!

So I thought I might make good on tying up a few loose ends in the Blog universe. Today I will be concluding the story that I mentioned I may or may not get around to in regards to laundry. I bet you are all on the edge of your seats now, reading faster, heart rates sky-rocketing.

Because Laundry is SO hot. So scintillating. SO fabulomatastisk!

Ok, fine. See here.

If you work your way down, past the half way mark, after a bunch of rambling, blabbing, and general pro-brevity sentiment, you will find a remark I made about our washing machine.

To be exact:

"Except when the washer emits smoke and threatens to explode. But that's another story which I may or may not get around to telling ..."

So there, considering this ME finally getting around to telling the story of our incredible smoking washing machine.

It was just an average Friday night. The husband and I had hauled ourselves up to Sacramento for the weekend. Lately I have taken to starting laundry on Friday nights because I am a LOOSER and like to get it out of the way so that we have more time for projects throughout the weekend with limited interruption.

Since generally it's a bad idea to rotate clean laundry when you're up to your eyeballs in sweat and sawdust.

I was about one laundry rotation and 1.5 glasses of wine into the evening when I finally joined The Husband for a movie.

Apparently I am now tracking my time in quantities of alcohol consumed.

Figures.

About 15 minutes into the movie I started to smell something foul and generally un-good.

Burning rubber is never something you want to smell IN the house.

Upon turning to The Husband I see that he has registered the same concern and we simultaneously look up at the video projector from whence the movie cometh forth.

And we both become buggedy-eyed and concerned that our new precious BABY was melting down.

Fortunately it was not in fact the projector. Which left us with only a moment of relief before it was replaced with the OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SMELL fear.

Was the house burning down??

And then it occurred to us both that it WAS possible that during the installation of the projector - and all the wiring that was required - that the attic was now on fire from some faulty wiring.

Holy shit that was a freaky moment. The very idea that the insulation in our attic was engulfed in flames left me feeling simultaneously very helpless and VERY aware of the consequences. That and was my husband capable of bad wiring that would cause the house to fall down in a smoldering heap? I mean, the guy knows what he's doing! How could this happen??

We grabbed a ladder and ran to the laundry room where the attic access is. The room was filled with smoke and smelled even worse than the bedroom.

At least we were getting closer - but this did not bode well for the attic/fire/crap/we're in deep shit now theory.

My Husband climbed up the ladder and very carefully pushed the access open.

We've seen Backdraft people! Excellent movie - lots of hot firemen running around, I highly recommend it. But I was having NONE of that in MY house thankyouverymuch. Well, all the scary fire and backdrafts at least.

And THANK GOD there was nothing but fresh air up there.

And apparently we had located our burning-stinky-smell source.

The laundry room - and in it, the currently running and highly suspect washing machine.

We turned it off, kicked on the vent, and let the room clear for a few minutes. The Husband checked the wiring and hoses, and after confirming they were ok, he turned it on again.

And the bad, evil, stinky smell returned.

Thankfully it doesn't take a person of high intellect to deduce a conclusion from this scenario. Which was in our favor given our combined wine consumption for the evening. Apparently the spin cycle was having issues and Mr. Maytag man will have to pay us a visit.

And with that we went to bed.

And the next morning I lugged a load of soaking wet laundry to the local Laundromat and sulked that one of my favorite appliances was kaput.

Mr. Maytag man came and replaced a bearing and a belt and chastised us for apparently over-loading the machine.

Um, excuse me? Over-load an EXTRA LARGE washing machine? I don't think I've EVER had what would be even considered a FULL load let alone an EXTRA LARGE. I haven't even washed a comforter or a sleeping bag which this beast is promoted to enjoy and reply "thank you may I have another".

Hello? This man was accusing me of ABUSING my washing machine? Any of you neat freak cleaning fanatics will know my pain.

Whatever.

So all is better now - I am happy to report that our washing machine is back to it's normal routine. And I no longer have to drudge off to the Laundromat and suffer from all the horrible inconveniences that I illustrated from my Thursday Blues post.

Cuz it's just agony I'm telling you.