an unhealthy relationship

i bought my house a little over 5 years ago, at the ripe old age of 47. i am now an owner not a renter. it’s always been just right for me…originally it was me and james and cleo~~ now it’s me and the man and cleo and jack… plenty of room but not too much and very working class.

i learned quite a bit about the previous owner through the estate agent, the official paperwork and most importantly through the overabundance of keys and locks, the arrangement of the kitchen~just the right spot to hang a mop and broom and most intimately when i found a single placecard left behind in a wardrobe saying simply “mrs. joyce halloway”

i caught a few comments about what a nice neighbor she was and one that disturbingly implied her husband had died IN the house and that she was in fact alive but gone to live in a nursing home. i was really angry when i got not just one but two or three letters from the council~months and then years after she’d gone to the nursing home saying they’d like to come and assess her house to adapt it for her.

waaaaay tooooo late folks!!!!

one of the major items joyce left me, that i continued to use on a regular basis was the washing mashine. it was obviously old but worked fine and i never had a problem with it despite me overworking it with my heavy american jeans and all the other things i stuffed into it. i thought more than once that the poor old thing probably worked harder for me than joyce ever dreamed possible.

until this week~~~~ a particularly heavy load was astep to far. it didn’t spin and even after i took out the dripping wet clothes and tried to run it empty, it deceptively made all the right noises but didn’t spin.

fear not! for the last year i have had mr a’s washer sitting in the middle of my kitchen and so the swap was made.

in a burst of energy on thursday, i managed to slowly move the old washer to just outside the front door. we planned to let the rag and bone man take it for scrap but i was hoping to bargain with him to take some other stuff we need to get rid of.

deep down though i just wanted to get a photo of it. sad i know…when i was moving it outside i opened this little flap and inside it said “made in itay” ~~~~who would’ve thought i’d be living in england and have a philco washer that was made in italy….

if that isn’t a weird enough relationship, somebody took the washer yesterday {without permission!} before i could get a photo…. i’m really sad and upset about that~~~

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