Awhile back I wrote about how living in an old house came with an interesting set of problems. Flash forward four years and many challenges later, I stand by what I said.
The latest brew-ha-ha? Getting my new washing machine into my house.
Everything in a new house is built to certain predictable sizes: doors, windows, etc. The advantage of this standardization is that when you buy a new appliance or piece of furniture you can be pretty sure that it'll fit where it's supposed to because the geniuses at the appliance companies know that being able to fit something in your house is a nice perk. That means beds fit in bedrooms, dining tables in dining rooms and washing machines in... wherever washing machines go, which in our house means the basement.
No such luck chez my house. After our washing machine broke down over Christmas (fun!), I bought a new model. I was worried that it might not fit so I bought one of the smallest ones I could buy and I also measured the door to the basement. It looked like it would fit... but I guess I'm not a mathematician because when the delivery guys arrived to install the new washer, not only could they not get the new washing machine in the basement but they couldn't get the old one out!
I was angry that day, let me tell you.
Fortunately, with the help of my brother-in-law, J, I was able to remove the basement door frame and get the old machine out and the new one down the stairs in a jiffy.
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| The infamous basement door with door and door frame removed. | |
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| I took out some anger on the old washer |
After this lil' MacGyver maneuver and a bit of touch up around the door, everything was smooth sailing.
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| Purring like a kitten... |
So I guess everything worked out in the end but I hafta admit, sometimes I dream about living in the 'burbs where things just work the way they are supposed to!
I totally feel you brother! I'll tell you about getting our new mattress up to our third floor sometime soon 😱
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