8/4/2014 What Next?
Changing the bed. Why not take the mattress cover off and
wash it. After I took it off it became large and thick and puffy.
Oh well. The water started bubbling in the wash machine. I was
laboring stuffing the "thing" in the water. Ah ha. I
called for my husband. We almost got it in together.
We both looked down at the
floor at the same time and wondered why our feet were wet. Water was pouring
out of the bottom
of the wash machine. "Let’s get this thing out of here into a garbage
bag." When I opened the garbage bag it was too small. We
carried it to our large garbage type thick container in the garage. We
felt comfortable we got rid of our problem.
The garage door was open to the hall inside the house where the
wash machine and water was gushing out. I turned the wash machine on
spin. It did get the remaining water out of the machine. Yes?
No.
We then began sharing a squiggly mop and I with the broom to sweep
the water from the house area to the garage. Just like dominos I then had
to sweep the water out of the garage floor. We had to pull the wash
machine out of its position and clean behind it. We had a large fan in
place to help dry the tile floor.
After that area was clean. I thought we might as well pull
the dryer out and see if any of the water had gone under it. There was
nothing wet under the dryer. Instead there was dirt, a thick lone sock
and a wash rag. I can clean that up in a minute. I got the
vacuum. The dirt which came up easily, so did the sock and wash cloth, making
the vacuum stuck and silent. This was a mess. We both continued to
have intervals of heavy laughter.
My husband was thrilled. He could now get to use his new
wonder drill. He hummed. I laughed. He unscrewed the hose
from the machine and got the sock and wash rag out. Gee, what a great
man. I will never say, "What do you need a new drill
for?"
With the hose in place he quickly found he missed attaching a
small rubber circle that should have gone on first . So he had to use his
new found wonder drill again. I was laughing more at this point.
Poor man.
We both were laughing. This is what people do when they are
eighty and eighty-five. Stuff happens! Phyllis Rehmar www.women70andover.com