Ahhhh washing machines. When we bought our first house, of all the white goods I wanted, the first was a washing machine. I decided it was the most essential of all. We had a camping stove and as it was only April, a fridge wasn’t essential.
I have never, but never, been any good at hand-washing. A friend of mine at university used to wash large bath towels BY HAND! Can you imagine washing a huge bath towel in a small sink in your bedroom in university hall of residence?
No. Well, I can’t. Still don’t know how she managed it. So for me, a washing machine has always been a priority.
When we bought the Gibflat it was full of the previous owner’s rubbish. Tat furniture and crappy white goods. Why move them out when they are past it and you can leave them behind for someone else to suffer or shift?
So we advertised the two beds and sofa as free to collect. And to the guy who collected them, we sold him the microwave at £10. OK it was pretty cheap but at least we didn’t have to shift a large sofa, a double bed and a single bed.
Another guy came for the washing machine that we sold for £15. It worked but it was pretty grotty, and I had one in storage with all the rest of the stuff from my mum’s house.
The door on my mum’s washing machine had been a bit iffy, but eventually it just refused to open. The last time involved taking off the top and fiddling around to try and open the door from the inside. I didn’t feel like Partner electrocuting himself because I was too mean to buy a new washing machine. And it wasn’t washing stuff properly either.
So it was time for a new one. I toyed between the cheaper Zanussi and the dearer AEG. Most of our appliances recently have been AEG. But I didn’t like the look of this one. It had some naff silver grey bling stuff and I knew it would offend me so I went for the Zanussi. I’ve learned from much experience to buy as simple as possible. Avoid electronics at all costs.
It worked a treat. I bought it at the end of September and it packed up at the beginning of December. Gloom.
Tried it again on the Wednesday just to make sure. No, not having a bar of it. Went to the shop on Thursday. The repair man wasn’t in and he was booked up for Friday. He didn’t work Saturdays. He might ring me Monday. He didn’t. Apparently he forgot. Lo and behold he rang saying he would turn up on Tuesday lunchtime. He did.
Once he’d diagnosed the problem he told Supervising Partner that he wouldn’t be able to get the bit until the day after.
“Non, non, non, non, non,” said Assertive Partner in Spanish, because the repair man comes from La Linea.
“Yo quiero hoy,” he added.
So the guy agreed to come back in the afternoon with the bit. Which he did good as gold and it worked again.
Three weeks later it packed up again. More gloom. Especially when we had a load of dirty washing piled up.
Plumbing Partner changed the pipework in case it was a problem with the waste. It wasn’t. He figured it was the same problem as before, and that the electrical connections underneath had come loose.
Not much point doing it yourself when it is under guarantee, much as we really needed to wash some clothes. If we need to complain about the machine being unfit for purpose, or whatever the phrase is, then best to have every fault registered.
So on Saturday, I wandered down to the shop again. Eventually. And of course, they had shut at lunchtime and by the time I got down there it was too late. The veg shop had shut too. I waited for the onslaught when I got in, but Partner just laughed.
I decided to walk down today when I went to the veg shop. Partner rolled his eyes and suggested I ring. I decided he was right. It would be well late before I walked down Main Street so I rang.
Not long after my call, Pepe rang. He was on his way. And in half an hour he had sorted it. We are all happy again. All the dirty clothes are being washed on a nice hot 60 degree wash. (All the ones that were damp because I tried to wash them two days ago and they were starting to smell horrid).
I can’t believe how difficult life is without a washing machine.