a tale of two broomheads

I rock.

This is the statement on which a young man's self-esteem should surely be based. (I don't really believe in self-esteem, or at least not in the goal of achieving it, but that's another entry.) And there's nothing quite like the satisfaction of fixing a major appliance.

It all started with a request to move a church hall full of chairs. (Err, the chairs, not the hall, to be moved in this case.) This task was made distinctive by the fact that when four of us arrived to do the job at 9am on Saturday, there were only seven chairs to be moved... (Turned out Alex had cleaned the place out the night before.) It was in the course of all this that I met the Superbroom. This articulated broom sweeps about 1.5m wide of floor at a time. I cleaned that place in no time, but realised afterwards that from the outset there had been more gunk on the broom than on the floor. This device appeared to have been used for the last 20 years without servicing. Now the mop-like sweeping heads (of which there are two on this puppy) are removable, and state they are hand- or machine-washable. No problems, says I. I'll take them home and clean this sucker.

[The orchestral music that starts playing in the background at this point is barely audible, but begins to generate a gnawing sensation in your belly that all is not right with the world.]

Washing machine engineers must sit around arguing about the dirtiest items that they need to account for when designing new filtration systems. I think however the Hotpoint team may not have been anticipating 20 years of church hall fluff and dirt when they designed their new Aquarius 1200. And so it came to pass that, after producing a pair of dramatically improved broomheads, the water in our washing machine failed to drain away. A series of further test loads did not change the basic pattern: wash, rinse, end with the washing floating in a puddle. Un-fun.

We've had enough contact with our landlord this week already (again, another story...) and I didn't really want to ring up and tell him the washing machine had packed in. We had an FPHW (four person household week) of washing to do too, with external repair probably days away. That's why, while Bronwyn headed off to her music practice for church this morning, you would have found me on the floor of the bathroom, rummaging under the washing machine.

I'm a strong believer in the value of the interweb. I also believe in prayer. So I first prayed, feeling somewhat desperate and a little unsure of the theology but also actually believing that God can fix washing machines if he chooses to, and sometimes is just waiting to be asked. I was then struck by an idea, and typed “self servicing aquarius 1200 washing machine” into google. Seconds later I was reading the lament of another Aquarius 1200 owner Ed, who had the same problem as me two months ago. Armed with Mike's confident reply to Ed, Nick's trusty screwdriver set, and a poorly-selected-for-the-task pair of needle-nosed pliers, I soon had the rear panel off the washing machine, the hoses removed, water on the floor, and the filter disassembled. Sure enough, gunk. And, surprisingly, a 50p piece in the bottom of the filter that looked like it had been there a while.

It's easy to take things apart. But today, some number of washes later, I can say I even put this one back together. So thanks to some God-given abilities, and bah humbug to the tall poppy syndrome: I fixed the washing machine! I rock.   : )