It is raining this morning, and by it’s good fortune, I was able to come home.
Our sons messaged me. The ceiling of the basement was leaking, but not from the rain. They told me location, reference points of the room and had a good idea.
“Do you think it’s the washer?” I asked.
“Yes,” our oldest son answered.
I had a good idea what happened. Before leaving for the morning, our youngest son asked if I would wash his laundry. His baseball uniform is in it, and though he didn’t have to, he spent the evening making diving catches in it as I hit fly balls in our backyard.
He has a game tomorrow and wants to ensure that it is cleaned.
To wash his clothes, most important—his uniform—I had to move laundry from the washer to the dryer which were my daughter’s clothes.
For reasons unbeknownst to me (as are mysteries, workings, and happenings of most women of every age), her laundry was still wet.
Doing as I thought best, I repeated the clothes in a “Drain & Spin” cycle in the washer seeking to wring more water from their mass.
Further adding to ways and mysteries—washer tried to rinse and added further to the weight. Washer shook with a violence to the weight and mass, and I held to it as it did.
When cycle finished, clothes and load were more sodden than before.
I didn’t want to do that again! What might break this time (or already had)?
I moved the clothes knowing it would be multiple cycles in the dryer—but it was better than a broken washer.
I started the dryer.
I started our son’s clothes.
I went to work.
Message came: the ceiling was dripping.
Home, I went.
I drew out the washer expecting to find a puddle in spill from line broken in spin cycle’s shake. Surprisingly, though needing dusted, floor beneath was dry.
Troubleshooting, breaking down piece by piece and process by process, I drew the washer out from the wall and ran a full wash cycle under observation. I watched upstairs, our sons below, waiting to kill the cycle at first sign.
None came.
Washer passed.
Next, examine of the dryer.
Our daughter’s clothes, an hour into dry were no drier than before.
A mess. Water was from the dryer vent as water spun from the drier as “Drain & Spin” would not do in washer at select.
Lessons of the Day:
1. Don’t overload a washer. Two manageable loads (or three as she said she already split her laundry in half) are better than one: for the washer, for the clothes, for the drying, for the walls, and lines—and all the home.
2. A laundry load of mostly sweatshirts (it has been a cool May) meets the threshold of “Bulky” for wash cycle purposes. This small piece of knowledge may save walls, lines, and the fear of demonic possession on account of live-convulsions of a home appliance.
3. An excessively wet laundry load will not “dry out” better in the dryer. It will make a new issue (we will see how the home dries from).
4. Spinning the whole knob on the washer before pushing “start” for the “Drain & Spin” setting (at least for me) averts the pre-spin rinse.
5. Manageable “Drain & Spin” laundry load sizes—along with prayers—reduces and perhaps outright eliminates threat of demonic possession of home appliances from outside spirits.
Further mysteries:
1. Why are there socks, still in a folded bundle, being washed?
2. How many sweatshirts can be worn in a three-day time frame?
3. Are this many needed?
4. Are the outfit changes necessary and essential (she is entering high school and I understand this comes with new levels and standards. I will not pretend to understand, but I will do my best to accept what I am assured are norms)?
I will do my best in continued study, and possible attaining of answers, to the mysteries that remain. For now, I am glad that nothing is broken; that observations have been made, documented, passed along in the hope that clothes, washers, dryers, and our home will all benefit of in the future.
We are all learning together.