London Leanne vs. The Laundry Part Deux

The title of this blog is a throw back to Banbury. Briefly, while in Banbury, I decided to do my laundry (I know, novel idea!) - unfortunately I was confronted by a space age machine, that promptly shrunk my clothes. I would like to say that it was not my fault that this happend, and that the intoxicated state that I may (or may not) have been in, was not a contributing factor to the problem. Needless to say, my first attempt at laundry in Britian was a stunning failure. Never did I attempt the laundry again.

As I am starting work early next week, I decided that today would be an idea day to do my weeks worth of accumulated laundry. Admittedly I was skeptical, but decided that since I am going to be here for awhile (that's the plan, anyway), I could not avoid this task. Luckily there is a laundramat just around the corner.

Well, I am pleased to report several things. Firstly, there was an older couple who were obviously laundry virgins (meaning they were more incompetent than me). As they are travelling through the area they were forced to do their own laundry (oh my!) - and let me just say - they were fairly excited by the whole process! Clean laundry...out of a machine...do-it-yourself!! WOW...round of applause. Secondly, I am pleased to report that the machines were derived from North American machines. In other words, aged peices of cr*p that are dirtier on the inside than the outside, with buttons falling off, and should have been retired 20 years ago. These are the machines that I understand :) Finally, I am thrilled to report - I don't think I shrunk anything. This is additionally good, because I have had to relegate myself to eating high calorie junk because it is cheap and I dont have a fridge. Do you realize that the only effective way to eat healthy is to have a fridge? Anyway, I can't afford to shrink my clothes - heck - in another week they will likely need expansion. All in all, I lost a sock, but no that's no great problem (remember, I did go through a year of mismatched socks - mainly because I didn't care but also because I always loose socks).

So that's that. I have plenty of time on my hands today, which I should appreciate while it lasts. At least now I have laundry Saturday's to look forward to! I can also always hope that there will be someone around who actually makes me look semi-competent (I will be adopting this for a teaching strategy).

Leanne versus the Laundry

It's been over a week since I left home, and naturally I have accumulated laundry. What better a way to spend a Friday night in Banbury, than to deal with that accumulation?

Part of my justification for renting the particular flat I am in, was based on the fact that my flat has a built-in washer. At least, that is what I thought....upon further investigation, the washer is a washer-dryer combo.

The idea of a washer-dryer combo machine is a somewhat foreign concept to me. I can admit - I like having seperate machines for my washing and drying. The silver contraption sitting in my kitchen (in North America, a dish washer would be sitting in the same location) has been a challenge for me. For the past 5 days I have stared, gawked, and sworn at it (why I would swear at it is beyond me - but somehow, swearing makes me feel better). I have sat in front of it, read the instruction manual (this is the first time I have seen an instruction manual included in an apartment rental), and still not had the courage to deal with actually opening the door.



I had thought about avoiding my washer-dryer altogether. Let's face it - I'm renting a flat on the British Pound - all I could picture was the washer exploding, leaking, or somehow lighting on fire. Of course, who would be responsible to repair the damage? Yeah...me. How much can I actually afford to repair? Put simply - if I were to damage something in this flat, I would be forced to flee the country before my landlord found out.

The other issue I have had is with utility costs - I can't even imagine what it costs to do a load of laundry here. In a country that is one step away from taxing air, I am fairly certain that the cost of running appliances is incredibly high.

So...I stopped by the laundramat that is located a short distance from where I am residing. I figured - "hey, let's avoid the potential for disaster!". Uh huh. Sure. As it turns out, one load of wash costs a whopping 5 pounds! Next, add the cost of drying..."oh buggar (I'm becoming British), just when I thought something might be affordable in this country."


So it's Friday night, and I really have nothing better to do - except maybe my lesson planning, which I swear I will get to - tomorrow. Outside on the street, I can hear the Friday night course of drunken antics - if this were home, I might be a willing participant. But I still have a hamper full of laundry, and a machine that is a beautiful accent to my kitchen. I decide that the safest method to learning the washer-dryer is to run a test load. Of course I'm not going to just willingly sacrifice my clothes to this technological wonder - I will sacrifice my towels instead...I don't actually need to shower tomorrow. I consult with my friends -Hoegardaan (spelled wrong, I realize) and Boddingtons. After achieving a pleasant state of melancholy and partial sobriety, I return to the instruction manual for my washer-dryer.

"Explitive is this complicated." I stare at the manual for a bit...I flip some knobs on the washer. Nothing happens.



Did I mention that this machine comes equipped with 13 presets? Various dryer cycle options? Custom dryer settings? Specialized temperature settings? Delay options (up to 9 hours!)? And a bunch more stuff I cannot even comprehend? Seriously - I have more options for my washing than I have for my career. What am I supposed to do with this much selection? I can't handle choice, and I certainly don't make decisions.

After spending more time pondering my washer-dryer, I naturally reconsulted with Boddingtons. Now, less than sober, I go to my neighbour's door in the hopes of finding out how to operate my washer-dryer. Luckily she is not home. Back to my apartment I stagger (notice that we are in realtime, here?)

Tentatively, I press some buttons, slam the door a few times, and lo and behold - the washer pops on. Then I pray (have you noticed that I have rediscovered religion since I have been here?). Holding my breath, I wait for water and suds to come pouring out...

2 hours later, I have steaming hot, clean towels....who knew? Ok. So that was Standardized Test 1....hmmm....still partially sober (or is it partially two-sheets-to-the-wind?) I decide to run Standardized Test 2...socks and underwear. And that is where I am right now - waiting to learn the results of ST2. If ST2 is a pass, I will jeopardize my jeans...gradually I may work up to my professional clothes.

Oh yes, and at least I have the utility bills to look foward to :)

Update to ST2: I shrunk my socks - they are cotton, and I am fairly confused.