New Washers & Rooms

7:15 AM

Dear Washer,

It is common knowledge -- and don't deny it -- that washers are some of the snootiest pieces of machinery. You know the washboard, lye soap and river water became unfashionable long, long time ago -- you know it, and you rub it in our faces. Unlike the usually compliant dryer, which, besides constantly flashing the CHECK LINT SCREEN, does no arrogant theatrics, the washer is a complete drama queen. It feels confident that it is indispensable (dryers are a luxury, at least in the summer) and it feels best when making a racket to let us know that we're stuck with it. Laundry is bad all by itself, but paired with a sassy washer, it can be misery.

You are no exception, Evil Washer VII. Without a doubt you have caused me more trouble than any other appliance in this house -- iron excepted, since the wretch turns off in the middle of ironing. And irons leave a bad taste generally. But you -- you have been looked at, fixed, complained at, kicked and forewarned. Here is my list of grievances and my declaration of independence: you leave standing water in the pile of darks; your spin cycle sounds like Air Force One on take off; and you do not clean clothes properly.

Now you're sitting in a junk heap, I hope, though I didn't care to question the appliance guys when they removed you. I made a point to laugh at a ridiculous joke while you left our house. This is all I have to say to you, Washer: R.I.P.

That does not mean "rest in peace." It means "rot in purgatory," so that I may have the pleasure of you being in semi-torment without the responsibility of feeling guilt for your utter doom.

It gives me great satisfaction to let you know that you have been replaced de facto with no sympathy or regret.

I relish the thought of the new washer standing in your spot, taking over your grimy corner.

I delight in knowing that the memory of you will quickly die and your memory efface.

Grateful to God for His providence and blessings,
The Undersigned.

In its place, we got the hottest washer on the block -- or the appliance store, which isn't on our block at all. I don't know where it is, to be honest: I'm like a blind man when it comes to geography, especially local. I get lost driving in town. But why would I need to know where my appliance store is? Besides, the tyranny of the former didn't lend any immediate daydreams about future washers.

It sure is a beauty, though, in a techie way. If Dr. Spock -- wait, is he the baby guy? I mean the science fiction Spock. Live long and prosper. Which is a suitable wish for our technologically advanced washer. It turns laundry into a game -- flashing lights, melodic beeping, a clear window in the door to lure unsuspecting cats to their psychological doom. And at the end of the game, it plays a little arcade ditty.

I win!

In other news, I find it very disturbing that a new washer should make the headlines in my life. Let me offset my painful strangeness with something even more strange.

I moved.


Left them all, left all my clothes and packed a Kit doll, couple of pictures and three books: The Help, One Thousand Gifts and Choosing Gratitude. Well, I did take my cupcake pajamas. And my pink robe. And my purple socks with the holes in them. And I obviously have my laptop. And I couldn't leave behind my Scottie dog pillow or handmade quilt.

There comes a time in every girl's life where it's time to move on -- especially when the youngest sister kicks her out of her own room. As soon as Caroline crawled out of her bed, Mom announced that new sleeping arrangements were in order. I have left the room of my foresisters. I am now alone in the guest room.

Which isn't so bad. I can toss and turn all I want. I don't have to worry about hitting my head on the ceiling, a very present danger with top bunks. I can hang paper snowflakes from the ceiling and decorate some twigs in a jar with a popcorn strand and pretend I'm creative.

Pottery Barn. You thought it was Pottery Barn, didn't you?
 I don't really like it. I'm the sort of person who won't go to bed early, even if she's dead tired -- the thought of sleeping alone in a dark room frightens me. Did I mention I'm afraid of the dark? Very. I used to think there were monsters under my bed and that E. T. and his cohorts from War of the Worlds would snatch me from slumber, and my sister and I kept long vigils over the weirdly shaped shadow in the corner of our room.

My psychologist is in the process of figuring out what childhood trauma caused this inordinate fear. Stay tuned.

In any case, I don't get to wake up on Sunday morning and exchange dreams.

I don't get to stay up till midnight talking about boys and friends and God.

If I'm sobbing my heart out, nobody will hear me except the teary-eyed vintage teddy bear whose nose is almost torn off. Which begs the question. Why do toymakers think that children will enjoy crying, frowny toys? They bring on their own fate: my crybaby doll looks like a ninety-year-old and has most of its fingers gnawed off, courtesy of my younger self.

Though perhaps I may not be as alone as I would wish. It's not really my room at all -- it's still the guest room if any guests show up, in which case I'll sleep on the floor of the Old Room. I'm constantly finding jealous little sisters on my bed, hiding in my sanctuary. In fact, the very first morning of my very first night sleeping alone, the whole gang showed up at 10:47 to pounce me awake.

They told me their dreams.

Bethany + Light - Inept Photography Student = Unspeakably Awesome Photos

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13 impressions

  1. :D I loveth your new room, Bailey! It looks so cheery...I especially like your quilt!

    -lol, your poor washer. I really like: R.I.P = rot in purgatory.

  2. Oh, I somehow understand. My three little sisters all snore and at least one of them always has a cough at night. That is the reason I've been sleeping on the couch, though the other night I simply had to be in the same room with my sisters.

    Still, your room looks lovely, and Bethany does take stunning photos - you should post pictures more often! :)

  3. Having three younger brothers, I always had my own room. Even when my mother remarried, his two daughters never lived with us, so they were merely guests in my room occasionally. Even now with Madilynn, she likes to bunk with my parents, although she has a toddler bed in my room. Since I've never really shared a room with anyone, I can't give an adequate opinion on whether I like having my own bedroom better or sharing a room better. :]

  4. I used to want my own room. A lot. Now, I think it'd be fun to decorate and organize my stuff but being "all alone" wouldn't be worth it. (Athough I'd still like to organize, paint, decorate, etc. a WHOLE ROOM ALL BY MYSELF!!!!!)


    Try to be brave, Bailey, and enjoy your decorating. :D

  5. Love the quilt!! That style is so simple, peaceful and charming.

    I might envy you your new only-for-you room, or I might not, depending on what my roommate is doing for me or to me at the moment.

    Much luv,

  6. You forgot to mention that fact that our nice dryer quit about three days after the washer - but the amazing (whereabouts unknown) washer guys fixed it. Hopefully.

  7. I love this for so many reasons!

    Reason #1:
    We got a new washer (and dryer) within the last year or so. We had the same experience of sassy appliances and I had the same RIP attitude when I bid them adieu. Our new ones look exactly like something from The Jetsons and, when they are quite ready to hand over our large, clean loads of laundry, they sing us what we call "The Irish Jig."

    And, between you and I, every member in my family does a certain little "jig" whenever this is heard ringing through the house. No matter what we are doing. Or who is over.

    AND, I used the Jetsons-y appliances more yesterday than any other day of my life. My ill mother was very excited to see that I had spent all day pretending to be Felicity Merriman and completely caught up on laundry.

    AND I just got my own room too. In September, when my eldest sister was married. It's kind of awesome, isn't it? Yours is adorable.

    That's all. For now.

  8. I love the hilarity of your verbosity.

    I understand the frustration of faulty appliances... although in my case it was a hot water tank that went kaput. Which was much more of a shock, because rather than the growing frustration of regular interaction, I was quite used to taking hot water for granted. A week of heating water on the stove, however, was enough to restore gratitude.

    I must say your room is beautiful! It looks so cozy and inviting... coincidentally, I'm planning on painting my room the same shade of yellow - now I can better imagine how it'll look. :)

  9. Awww, my condolences on the loss of your washing machine.
    So, you are having to sleep in a big, cold, empty room, all by your lonesome? I'm so sorry! ;) I can't imagine having a room all to dull! No late night endlessly chattering five-year-olds, no small clothing articles scattered all over the floor...I suppose I would eventually adjust, though.
    Have fun!

  10. Hey, wait a minute. Isn't that the quilt you made, Bailey?

  11. Fun, eclectic post. I just wish my washer and dryer were high tech enough to be sassy. I think my washer is trying to keep a low profile for fear we will discover just how few generations there really are between her and a washboard and river water. ;-)

    My daughter's AG doll is Kit. The fact that Kit even gets a cameo appearance in one of your new room pictures makes me smile. It must be rather lonely and disconcerting to suddenly be sleeping in your own room all by yourself after having shared a room your whole life. However, the mother part of me was nodding and feeling a rightness as I read this post. You have your own room now to decorate and arrange as an outward representation of you, and only you, just as in a few years you will have a house of your own that will be an embodiment of your taste and personality as well as your effort and caring. Looks like you are doing a great job already! :-)


  12. Aemi, you have a sharp eye. It is indeed my beloved quilt I posted about way-back-when -- one of the first adventures of a hapless homemaker.

    Hopefully your eye wasn't sharp enough to notice that it's not big enough for my bed.....

    Adele, your mother heart does me good. I like having my own think my own thoughts...and escape from the Normal Chaos of life. If I get extra lonely, I'll have a chat with Kit. We haven't had one for a long time. :o)

    Love to all you other girls! Your appliance woes and bedroom arrangement advice has made me smile.

  13. Heehee... fun post. Hope the new washer holds up for you. I (from experience with other things like car doors, not necessarily with washers) am more likely to trust a machine with less parts and more manual involvement.

    Because, after all, I don't ever hear of the appliance guy being called to fix a washboard.

    Which isn't to say that I'd rather use a washboard... but that I hope it holds up.



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