Big Red

I have a nemesis.  It is called Mount Washmore and I climb it over and over and over again.  The laundry around this joint just never ends. I know many of you are saying "honey, you're preaching to the choir."  And I hear ya.  It seems that where there are kids.....there is laundry.  It seems that where there is a farm......there is laundry.  I'm like Monica on Friends when they played boys against girls trivia for the girls apartment.  One of the questions was "how many categories of towels does Monica have?"   "Everyday Use.....Fancy....Guest....Fancy Guest.....11!"  That's how I feel about my laundry.  Everyday Use....Play....Barn.....Winter Barn.....I even have laundry to do for horses and sometimes calves! 

Needless to say, my washing machines work very hard.  So hard, that occasionally they just up and quit.  Not that long ago, my machine quit and I was dying in a sea of dirty, stinky clothes.  In our haste (and I think the word "divorce" was thrown around a bit) The Dairy Farmer took me to pick out a new washing machine.  I found one I liked, but it happened to be red. 

Red is not the color I would prefer in a washing machine.  Red seems to me to be, sort of, an angry color.  I mean, if you're a bull, seeing a red cape infuriates you.  So, the last thing I want to do is walk into my laundry room, see red and start ramming my washing machine with my head.   But, I had grown tired of telling the punks to turn their undies inside out and have a do over, so we bought it.    Big Red arrived the next day and has been humming along ever since.  She even sings the cutest little song when she's done washing and if she can be that happy whilst washing manure caked jeans....than I can too. 

Until last week.  I was having her wash my bed comforter and she started singing a very odd tune.  A sad tune....a tune of fear and angst.  I checked on her and low and behold, the comforter had turned into a 400lb ball of wet.  She was giving it everything she had, but she just.....couldn't......spin!    We called the repairman and they planned to show up on Monday.  Oh dear.....Monday.  We weathered the weekend with a big ole pile of steaming, hot barn clothes (which were just begging our housecats to come use them as their litterpan) and a laundry basket full of mildewing bed spread.

I walked in the front door Monday afternoon to see my young repairman friend working on Big Red.  "What's the good word?" I asked.   Well, apparently.....her lint trap was clogged.   Hello.....my girl has a dirty lint trap?  I had no idea.  I felt awful.  I am always cleaning out the lint trap on my dryer.....but I.....I......I just didn't know.....and it was full.....full of dirt, straw, hair, fur and....a needle (hazards of farm laundry)  She's all cleaned up now and fully functional.   And, I'm here to pass the word to all you front loader owners out there.   Let me be an example.....I want to spare you the pain and embarrassment of having someone tell you that you have a dirty lint trap.

Now, there is an upside to this story.  I did have to take this picture not only to show you where to find the elusive lint trap, but to show you that after that repairman left.....my laundry room has NEVER been cleaner.