The Art of Plate Spinning (and buying multiple washing machines)

I knew these past few weeks would be busy.

I knew I’d signed myself up to an advanced lesson in the art of plate spinning for the not so faint hearted.

After all, if you go and arrange a large conservatory to be built on the back of your house in November, just before the busiest season of the year, which comes just before you’re booked to take the family on their First Trip to Daddy’s Homeland, Australia, then you’re not expecting a quiet life.But I had no idea quite how many plates were going to be thrown in there, that I’d be effectively spinning plates with both my feet and my hands.  The image of a Greek dancer at the mercy of a drunk audience comes to mind.

The first unexpected ‘plate’ was the rain. Who’d have thought that the worst flooding of the year would coincide with the week that the concrete base had been laid for the conservatory but not the roof.  Hey, we got an indoor swimming pool for the price of a conservatory, at least for a week. Its only just finished drying out….

Then there was school asking me to get my 8yr old girl kitted out as an ancient Greek goddess for a Greek day in the middle of the Christmas play season….

The cat losing his collar, the tax man telling me I owe him money but couldn’t recall why when I questioned it.

But the biggest, fattest unexpected plate of all is in no doubt the washing machine door falling off its hinges. I kid you not.  Here it is….

Now, those of you who’ve read my post A New Oven… might be forgiven for thinking “Perfect! You no longer have the problem of that brand new oven door clashing with washing machine door when opening!'”  I have to admit, that thought did flit across my fatigued brain for one small moment, and made me laugh very loudly. But then I remembered I have laundry to do.

And I have to admit that it was a joy to have an excuse to replace that 14yr old, Evil Edna of a noisy machine (remember Willo-the-Wisp?!). Trouble is, I wasn’t planning on researching slim line washing machines just when the electrician, the fitter and the floor man all turned up wanting decisions from me (although that sounds like Happy Families I wasn’t feeling like one at the time). And I couldn’t just go and order any old sized washing machine. It had to be one that fitted in that darned annoying little hole.

To save you the boring detail, we ended up buying not one, not two, but THREE washing machines, finally ending up with the right one (to be delivered on our return from Australia). Annnnnd, I have the first washing machine sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor – yes, I can’t quite believe it. I have yet another ‘white goods’ item sitting like a large parasite in the kitchen waiting to be returned to its rightful owner.

All I have to do now is pack bags, agree a colour for the walls with husband, pay for the flooring and sing with the Lady Blah Blah’s at our Christmas Songshed on Saturday. A doddle.

But I’m not complaining, honestly gov. I’m about to have a marvellous long holiday in Antipodean sunshine. I’m very privileged.

So, as I come limping in to the finish line, what have I learnt?

Life is messy. And that I should always expect the Spanish Inquisition, sorry, the unexpected, factoring in about a third extra work than planned.

Always shop at John Lewis, anywhere else is simple madness  – but then those of you living in England already knew that. He is the patron saint of All Good Shopping Experiences.

Don’t be a saint and try and keep all those plates spinning – it really is ok to let some of them smash to the ground.  The vigilant side of me finds that incredibly hard, but I’m going to have to learn how to or else I’ll be coming off my hinges, let alone a washing machine door…..

Leave a Reply