Unintimidated by a Domestic Crisis and Moonlighting Repairmen

I don’t know anything about physics, but I do know you have to make the gadget at least begin with the destination lower than the reservoir you’re trying to drain. That washing machine was three quarters full, and the bucket was on the floor, its bottom maybe six or eight inches below the bottom of the washer.

Dealing with the end of a six-foot plastic tube inserted in an empty bucket, once you succeed in getting suction at the upper end is kind of like trying to get a recalcitrant snake into a sack when you have hold of the tip of its tail. It must have taken a quarter of an hour while I tried to coordinate filling the tube to the end, inserting the upper part under the water in the tub, and starting the process. I’d get the tube down in the bucket, then I’d have to immerse the upper end, and I couldn’t move fast enough. The tube thrashed around wildly with a life of its own before I could get it back inside the bucket, by which time, the upper end hadn’t been held down under the water. The floor was awash before I could take command of the upper end of the assembly and reinsert it into the water in the tub. Then, of course, the suction was lost, and I had to begin again ... and again, and again.

I’d used all my rags to swab up the floor. I was breathless, and I realized this was a job for two people. I held down the top end with one hand and kept the tube in the bucket with the other. The siphon was working like a champ, and almost instantly, the bucket was within a half inch of the top, yet the washer was still almost full. I grabbed the wastebasket in which I’d carted away the offending rugs, but lost first the tube end, which spewed soapy water six feet until I lost suction when I had to use another hand, and so it went.

You know how Mickey Mouse looked in the Disney version of The Sorcerer’s Apprentice? I actually emptied the bucket four times and the wastebasket (about three times the capacity of the bucket) two or three times before I finally got the level of soapy water too low to immerse the upper end of the siphon, and so had to give it up. Besides, I was whipped. I was wet. The floor was awash. It was time for lunch.

I made a sandwich, sat down to eat it, and contemplated my next move. There was still eight or ten inches of water in the tub, but the big screw agitator stood stolidly in the middle, and I couldn’t figure out what I could use to bail out the rest. Eventually, I settled on a small steel bowl, which I used for another three buckets’ worth, then I graduated to a soup ladle.

I’m short, and reaching down into that machine and up to dump the contents of my bowl or ladle was a good deal more exercise than I’m used to. When I went to bed and draped an arm along my body while lying on my side, I discovered I actually bruised my ribs by hanging over the edge of the washer, stretching to reach the bottom of the tub.

Sunday I rested. Monday came, and the man I’d left a message for called. He’d been away for the weekend deer hunting, so hadn’t got the message till that morning. He also said that he arrived home to not one, but two deaths in the family, so would be unable to help. I did my best to make him understand my sympathy without telling him I’d already given up on him. By ten-thirty, I hadn’t heard from the other person called by the appliance dealer. Somewhat calmer after a rest, I girded myself for one of those phone fights housewives deal with routinely, and called the dealer.

To fast forward: the repair man came, spent about two hours carving the solidified bits of rubber out of the drain, used every single towel in the house to soak up the water he kept spilling until he got the pump working, but got my machine going again. It cost me less than I’d feared. Thank heaven, since I now had eight bath sheets covered with rubbery bits and soaking wet that I had to shake and scrape and then wash!

I learned two things: examine the back of any rug no matter what the washing instructions are before you put it in your machine, and never, never try to siphon out anything without another pair of hands to help!

Photographs from Wikimedia Commons

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Unintimidated by a Domestic Crisis and Moonlighting Repairmen

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