Old Nelly fights back....

 

Old Nelly is/was my washing machine, she's 21 years old.  She's been on the brink of death a few times, but Mr. Moey refused to part with her.  We've had her repaired, but she was never the same.  The whining and grunting noises that come out of her were unsettling except of course to Mr. Moey and his selective hearing.  I put it down to his separation anxiety and his fear of change.  Oddly enough, TV's and stereo/computer equipment don't seem to fall into that category.  Poor Nelly has tried to leave us a few times, I've caught her halfway across the room but managed to push her back into her corner.  She just wants to go to the big washing machine cemetery with some dignity.  She doesn't owe us anything, she's served us well. 

Well last night she finally took matters into her own hands.  Mr. Moey was outside in the rain yesterday doing some yard work, his jacket was mud spattered and needed a good wash.  I threw it into Nelly and  went to collect it about a half hour later.  The jacket looked like it had been attacked by a pack of rabid dogs.  It was ripped everywhere, all the insides hanging out.  She ate it alive.  The jacket was a Helly Hansen which is a decent brand of outerwear clothing, not exactly dollar store material.  Mr. Moey was beside himself, "how could this happen?  I don't get it, this doesn't make any sense."  I was desperately trying to conceal my glee.  I decided to try to wash a couple of other things to see what would happen, she started to fill up with water; there was a strange humming noise, a few feeble attempts to spin, some wheezing and then silence. With a little coaxing and some sweet talk I managed to get her to empty all the water in the tub, bless her little sudsy soul.  I've taped a DNR order across her lid in case Mr.gets any ideas.

So it's off to Sears this week for a washer for moi and a new jacket for Mr. Moey, and Nelly can finally rest in pieces.