It's always in batches of three isn't it, so when the next thing goes wrong we'll just start on another three and wait for two more.
In fact the tumble dryer did catch fire a few weeks ago but I'm discounting that because it was user error and everyone thinking that everyone else was emptying the lint filter in the door, which they hadn't and for some time. Bookhound happened to be passing and noticed the smoke, opened the door and very observantly noted flames but after some smooth talking and a bit of a clean up, it's all fine.
There but for the grace of etc and disaster was averted because since the blocked filter-flooding of the washing machine that afternoon two years ago, when we all had flu and were all semi-conscious and coughing our way mindlessly through Deal or No Deal (as you do), and we agreed that under no circumstances would we ever go out and leave appliances running because that could have been a whole lot worse than just the floating hall carpet.
The more I think about it the more I see this house as one great big digestive system, fine when it all works, a sort of noisy, noticeable distraction when it doesn't.
The triumvirate (because these things do rule our lives whether we like it or not) of expense-bearing disaster started with the water supply which coped magnificently through the cold weather, happily kept pumping up from the bore hole, too cold to touch coming out of the tap, but it did come out of the tap for which we were very grateful. We are understandably sensitive to every nuance of the water supply because without it, well it's like Armageddon here, so when it started to come out of the tap in instalments, a sort of pulsed approach to delivery, projectile water followed by a trickle, we sent for the 'water' man very quickly and he sorted it (constipation out in the pressure vessel.)
We paid the bill and settled down to wait for Things Two and Three, sort of looking over our shoulders and wondering what it might be.
Thing Two wasn't long in happening and in fact this was quite exciting because for a moment it seemed we had V2 rockets powering the central heating and were prone to something called 'kettling'.
If you haven't 'kettled' lately it really is something to behold, forgive the digestive allusion but akin to trapped wind in your central heating system and the water boiling in the pipes.
Simple we thought, you just find the key and bleed the radiators, job done.
Except no amount of Bookhound assisted gaseous release from the system seemed to alleviate the symptoms and there was an ongoing debate about whether we could fry an egg on the radiators or not, whilst indeed a moon landing did seem in the offing for the whole house.
So we sent for the 'heating' man and he fixed it (valve trouble) and we paid the bill and sat back because Thing Three was inevitable, just a matter of time.
If the water supply going awry is Armageddon then really the washing machine going off its legs is like having the four horseman of the apocalypse all riding in together and panic sets in fast.
This panic is all a little uncontrollable remnant of post traumatic stress disorder induced years ago by a new Hoover (yes, let's name and shame) washing machine that broke down eighteen times in its first two years of life, and usually full of half-washed towelling nappies.
A saga it gives me palpitations even to think about let alone recount.
In fact last week the machine (now a Miele) got stuck on rinse and for all our persuasive endeavours was having none of it and carried on quietly digesting the load of towels that were in there (it's always a ton weight of something isn't it) not an ounce of movement could we persuade out of it, not a spin in sight, and no amount of rehabilitation seemed to work.
Now Mieles are lovely when they work but horribly expensive when they go wrong, which they don't for many years. We reckoned ours had done at least fifteen years very hard work in the last ten and when it became clear that the electronictrickery in the circuit board had gone and doubtless the motor would go a week later it was decision time.
I find washing machine decisions can be made very quickly here as the staircases (we have two to fill) start to disappear under the weight of the great unwashed garments, and when it's the Gamekeeper's laundry you really don't want to hang about.
Then I start hyperventilating and that's it, decision made.
So off we trotted into Plymouth and came home with a new washing machine, it was that easy if a little more than we usually spend on a shopping trip to Plymouth. The man quickly gave up trying to sell us another expensive Miele and we've gone Bosch (if you have a Friday afternoon Bosch that has been nothing but trouble, please don't share) which will spin at 1400 and probably shred our clothes to tatters, but they'll be dry tatters.
The thing was that since the Miele went into the far end of the utility room considerable works have been done around it, including installing a new toilet. It slowly became clear that the toilet was no way going to allow the machine back out of the room without it needing an up and over style removal and likewise the new one up and over in.
Have you lifted a washing machine lately?
No me neither,
'I've just got to go and look at my blog' I said...