I thought the dishwasher didn't sound right, last night. This morning, I was sure of it. Yesterday evening, when I checked on the washer, it looked like I'd made a mistake, and not put the detergent pack in. The door where it goes was open, and the dishes quite sincerely not clean.
So, I put another pack in place, closed the door, set the dial, and listened as the machine whirred and clicked: but didn't whoosh. This morning, the dishes were warm, steaming, damp, and anything but clean.
I discovered that crumbs, when steam-heated and left overnight, form a sort of paste.
It took a long soak, and elbow grease, to get the stuff off.
Which gave me time to reminisce on my childhood, long years ago. Those were the 'good old days,' when dishwashers were luxury items for upscale households. My folks didn't have one until I was in college.
I have memories of those days, when I learned how to deal with baked-on grease, and the lesser gunks which adhere to dishes and kitchenware. I also am glad that these aren't the 'good old days.'
My wife and #3 daughter were in Alexandria, seeing a doctor about #3 daughter's wrist. My wife particularly is feeling better. Not good: but better. I touched base with my wife at her dad's house, where the ladies generally spend part of Friday morning.
I told her about the dishwasher, and asked who we have fix it. I wanted to get a work order started ASAP. She told me that she'd call the repair guys, when she got home. And, she explained why she should talk with them:
'They know me. They like me.
They don't know you. They don't like you [pause] yet.'
I could hear my father-in-law laughing, in the background.
She's got a point: I have, from time to time, gotten a bit intense with people.
As it turned out, it was a good thing she called. First, she does have a working relationship and history with this outfit. Second, she was kept on hold for at least ten minutes. I'm sure there was a reasonable explanation, but I might have gotten a little more tense than she seemed, after that.
Anyway, I'll be reliving the 'good old days,' at least until Monday. That's the earliest that someone can get out here.