We’ve had a couple rickety, or broken appliances around here lately.
From January to March, the garage door slid up crooked and then, with a grinding screech, got caught catawampus and stopped. Sometimes we could lower it and start over, and sometimes that worked.
Mostly, we just started using the front door.
In March, the garage door simply rebelled and quit working altogether. You can grind wheels through a twisted track for only so long.
The ice machine in the ‘fridge has been grinding too…for months. We don’t use ice as much as we used to, so we ignore it. We’re getting old and tired.
With hurricane season upon us, we decided to bite the bullet and get the garage door replaced. We’ve been in this house twenty years, and the catawampus door is the original garage door.
It’s old and tired too. And probably abused, there at the end.
Yesterday, the new garage door was installed.
The installer did a wonderful job. Another line of work I am so glad somebody else enjoys. I wouldn’t last a minute.
While the garage door guy was here, the dryer stopped drying.
My husband, who was off yesterday, said, “That’s it. Stuff is falling apart around here.”
He slid all the junk away from the dryer so he could drag the dryer out and discern the problem.
Within twenty minutes, he came in the kitchen and announced, “The dryer is fixed.”
“Really?” I said. I was dreading the expense of a new dryer.
“Come here,” he added. “I want to show you something.”
In the garage, where the dryer is, he pointed to a plastic bag. “Look at this.”
I made a face. It looked like Lamp Chop, the Shari Lewis hand puppet. “What is that?”
“Lint,” he said.
Sure enough. LINT.
With a toothpick in it.
All of this lint was not in the lint trap. Oddly, the lint trap was clean. It should be fired. Clearly, it’s not doing its job.
This is the fluff that had piled up below the lint trap and in all the nooks and crannies in the dryer. The lint had clogged the gears and rendered the machine inert. Good grief.
I guess it would be beneficial to drag out the dryer every fifteen years and hose out the hiding places.
On a roll now, my husband pulled out the ice maker and dumped the ice into the sink. The cubes came out in a single block. He took the bin and disappeared into the garage.
Five minutes later, he was back. “Ice maker is fixed.”
What a handy man I have, I thought. The guy is brilliant.
“What was wrong with it?” I asked.
He handed me this….
“How did a spoon get in the ice maker?” he wondered.
I vaguely remembered reading about a remedy for puffy eyes – a cold spoon pressed onto the eyelids. I may have tried it at some point.
“Maybe you were chipping at the ice?” he said.
I shook my head. “I use a butter knife for that.”
Clearly, we’re slacking on home maintenance. It’s become more complicated with having to check for sheep in the dryer and utensils in the freezer.
Just this morning, the printer started acting up.
I hate to look.