The Day My Washing-Machine Went Walkabout

Yes, It Was Moving! I suppose at this point I ought to explain just how my washing machine had managed to produce a pretty good impersonation of something possessed. It was vibrating. Actually, that isn't a good enough word. Washing machines are supposed to vibrate. Something I believe generations of housewives have given thanks for. This was osselating, rocking, dancing. (Actually, the explanation I got when I finally got the repair man in was that a diode or something had blown in the circuitary. As a result, when it got to the inital spin cycle, when it had a whole load of sopping wet clothes, it was spinning twice as fast as it should do, causing the whole thing to shake violently. As a computer programmer, rooted in the digital age, I found this explanation rather disturbing. I mean, if something had broken in the hardware, shouldn't it just pop up an error message or something? I've had users complain about my programs crashing, but their PC never came at them across their desktop). It was vibrating so much that I couldn't really see it properly. There was just this white blur. I couldn't make out any of the writing, it was just blue swiggles swarming across my vision. I did what seemed the most sensible thing at the time. I tried to stop it. I knew this part of the cycle only lasted a few minutes. The spin cycle always announced itself with a helicopter scream, and never lasted long enough to be annoying. All I could think of was that if I could just get through the next couple of minutes without it smashing the kitchen to matchwood it would be okay.

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