Yesterday, I tossed a few items into the dryer, just to fluff them for a few minutes to soften them, and, I admit, to warm them up before folding, because I was chilly, and what is there that’s nicer than warm, clean laundry, except for warm, melty cookies which were already coming out of the oven? Anyway, I tossed the clothes into the dryer, turned the dial to 20 minutes, and pressed start. Nothing happened. I turned the dial to “normal” and pressed start again. Still nothing. I fiddled with the knobs some, repeatedly pressing the start button, but it just wouldn’t turn on. Finally, I opened the door to see if maybe the safety latch hadn’t engaged, and it was hot in there! The heater was working, but the drum wasn’t tumbling. Looks like we’re in the market for a new dryer belt.
I think that also explains the curious Hot Cotton scent lingering on my last dryer load of pajamas.
I almost forgot to mention it to David later on. We were chatting about some other stuff, and I said, “Oh, by the way, the dryer is broken.”
“What?!” he replied. “Why are you dropping this on me so casually?”
And the reason was, I wasn’t concerned about it. I wasn’t blindsided. I looked into that hot, not-tumbling machine, and I thought, “Of course. This is just how it’s supposed to go.” Sometimes things are just going too smoothly, and you can’t muster up any surprise when there’s a little hiccup in the system.
I’ve been meaning to go back to hanging the laundry anyway, and now I’m properly motivated.
And I suppose there are other ways to get warm. I’ll just have to bake more cookies.
Irrelevant photo of Evie practicing her climbing skills in a fallen tree limb. Trees are tricky when you’re three!