A real man

This is about to sound like my Blog is even more boring than usual (is that possible, I hear you ask), but stick with it, there's a point to all this.

I put a load in the washing machine last evening and left it to run its course. When I noticed it had stopped, I decided that it was too late to hang anything outside so I put it onto an hour's worth of tumble drying. I was aware that the drying cycle had been finished for probably an hour or more and I was about to go to bed so I decided to empty the machine. When I opened the loading door I was met with a blast of scalding steam which narrowly missed my face. All the clothes (and the bath towel) were still soaking wet and not only that, the water soaking them was almost boiling. On top of that the clothes felt slimy and I realised that this was due to the detergent still being in the water.

When I dragged the stuff out I realised that the washing machine drum was turning very freely in both directions when I applied hand pressure to it. Bollocks. The drive belt must have snapped, I thought. Too late last night to do anything, but with thoughts of washing machine service engineers standing looking at it and sucking in air through their teeth as they deliver the expensive bad news to me I went to bed in a very unhappy frame of mind.

This morning when I awoke I remembered that in a previous life (well actually several lives ago, this happened to be the first one after leaving school) I used to be an office equipment service engineer. At that time (and I choose those words carefully, don't ask me to do it now), I was extremely comfortable with dismantling and repairing photocopiers and, ahemm, typewriters (ask your mummies and daddies!) and I even attended college where I was awarded Distinctions in both the practical and theoretical modules of the City & Guilds in Radio, TV and Electronics Servicing for which I was studying. Why on earth wouldn't I be able dismantle a washing machine and fix it, I thought.

Now normally I work on the principal that DIY stands for Don't Involve Yourself, as those who know me, and particularly those who have been married to me, will no doubt testify. For some reason I forgot that this morning.

So, stopping only briefly to consult Google who led me to a great wee page on domestic appliance repairs (t'InterWeb really is all things to all men), and having despatched the cats to the relative safety of the great outdoors I manhandled the washing machine out of its tight space between cupboard and cooker, and set about taking it apart. I exaggerate of course. I only had to take off the top panel (two screws) to see that the drive belt had come off, not broken. Taking the back panel off (six screws) allowed me access to the belt, and after the judicious application of a bit of brute strength and pig ignorance, the belt was back on. The machine is now working happily re-washing the slimy stuff from last night.

Amazing the sense of smug satisfaction when you repair something yourself (thereby avoiding potentially expensive call out charges from engineers).

Off out on the bike now. The weather here is tremendous for October, but I don't know how many more nice weekends there will be this year so better make the most of it now.