I’ve moved to different lodgings, as Wendy’s place had a prior booking for this week; I’m thinking Wendy is a very accommodating lady and often has waifs and strays at her place).
I’m at the generous Jessica’s house while she is away for a few weeks. Before she left, she showed me the quirks and tricks around the place, and although her washing machine did appear a little temperamental I took a chance and threw my washing in. Everything but the nightwear I was wearing. Next thing, the washing machine goes beyond temperamental and leaps to possessed. Channeling Ghostbusters, it begins trying to get into the kitchen, complete with lid snapping open and closed, and rocking on all four feet. Red blinking lights look like crazed winking and it’s beeping is incessant.
I had to empty the machine of my washing and hold the middle of the tub to get it to drain, with Dexter having conniptions because I’m ignoring his warnings and he’s convinced the evil white box is trying to drag me in. Dexter stood his ground and matched the machine, growl for growl, but left the room when the machine started spitting at him. He then stood in the doorway with his front legs spread out, as if to prevent the machine making off with me, and continued to bark his dire warnings.
I have wrung all my washing out. It is draped over the bathroom and laundry to dry, but Dexter is still pacing about and letting out small growls to let me know he’s still on duty.