All washed up

Dark days in the Grenville household – our trusty washing machine has gone for the great spin-cycle in the sky.

I’ll miss “Washy”. She managed three house moves and a considerable amount of her life without the curved plastic screen on the front, after a careless handyman broke it. But she soldiered on regardless.

True, in her later years she did get quite temperamental. Prone to screeching suddenly, rocking violently from side to side and the timer sounding like it was possessed by the spirit of Ringo Starr, we’d known this day would come since around Christmas.

Returning home after a medicinal cappuccino last weekend, we discovered Washy refusing to give up her load of towels and pillow cases, instead keeping them safe in a very hot bath of soapy water.

Eventually, we had to prize her door off. I’m not sure who was more hurt. Banished to the back yard, she’s currently glaring at us from under a tarpaulin, wondering why she’s been abandoned. I suspect she never really forgave me for the time I did a boil wash with nothing inside, and melted her detergent drawer.

Choosing a new washing machine should be a relatively straightforward process, really. We want it to wash stuff, then rinse it a bit, spin for a while, then dispense clean, damp, stuff that we can hang outside or feed to Mr. Tumbly in the cellar.

It turns out to be hellishly complicated. Do we need a little flap in the door, so we can add a forgotten sock part way through a cycle? No. I own several pairs – I’ll cope. A massive 1,600 RPM spin speed? Not really – we want to get most of the water out, not create a hole in the fabric of time.

I generally used one temperature, and one programme on Washy. Apart from that time I put a red t-shirt in with the whites by mistake I always got what I wanted that way, namely clean clothes (or pink ones).

So do I need a staggering combination of temperature, material type, spin speed, delicates, eco, half load, short spin and other settings to try and think about? Nope – I want it to wash my pants without me needing a degree in computer science to programme it.

Does it need to be pastel blue, with a door on the front that makes it look like a fridge? Cost £1600? Be big enough to wash every item of clothing I have ever, currently, or will own? Nuh-uh.

Still, if you ask the internet, you can easily lose a day trying to work out what it is you actually need, comparing prices and reviews. Only 4.7 stars? It’s £10 cheaper on that other site! Is the delivery free? Agh!

Still, if the new one lasts as long as Washy did, I’ll let you know about it’s demise in my “Thank grumpy I’m still alive” column in 2033.

17 years. They don’t make ‘em like they used to... #Pray4Washy

This post first appeared as my 'Thank grumpy it's Friday' column, in the North West Evening Mail, on the 26th of August 2016. 

Strangely, it is once again on their website, but not listed anywhere, so you'd only find it by using their search facility. It also got a slight re-title - to "We're all washed up". In case you're interested, it's here on their website,

Washy's sad demise was breakdown number 1, followed swiftly by our phone line dying, and then our broadband failing too, which explains why I'm somewhat late posting this. More on the exciting world of being offline in tomorrow's column...

(CD A-Z: The Human League's "Original Remixes & Rarities". A delightful hotch-potch on 12" mixes and B-sides etc.)