Hubby and I again flew (in the car) up to Missoula, watched the Griz football game, and arrived back home by nine last night. A fast and furious day, but fun. Today however, it's back to real life and getting everything back in shape for another week. I've been doing the laundry this morning and began thinking about the old dryer we had when I was a teen in Mssoula.
The washer and dryer we recently bought are great, they do bigger loads, use less water and are now upstairs in what was called the "pet bedroom" for many years. When we had Millie, the basset hound, no one wanted to share a room with the stinky dog so the laundry room on the main floor was where she slept, ate and where the kitty box resided. Millie is gone and when we purchased the new washer and dryer we decided have the appliances placed in their rightful place. Now its a quick chore, seldom do I leave the clothes in the dryer to get wrinkly because I have a musical alert when they are done. The little song plays is from a classical piece of Schubert's work, "The Trout" but I wish it played the song my Mom's dryer did in Missoula.
We moved to Missoula in the mid 60's. Rainbow Drive to be exact. It was what is called a starter ranch now. Mom and Dad had purchased two other houses by this time so it wasn't their "starter" house and in fact we were thrilled because it was so "modern". The beach house and the house in West Seattle had both been older homes and although we loved them, their charm was only found in houses their age. Oddly placed bathrooms, small closets, and creaky floors to name a few endearing features.
The house in Missoula was a compact three bedroom home with turquoise kitchen appliances and a pink washer and dryer. Even back then then we found the an color odd a attempt at being ultra modern but not quiet getting there. But since all appliances were in working order, until one broke down and the repairman couldn't patch it back into working condition, they would not be replaced.
We were quite surprised when the first load of clothes had dried in the dryer and it alerted us by playing:
How dry I am
How dry I am
Know body knows
How dry I ......
(as long as we lived ther it NEVER played the last note!
Today I wish I could change Schubert's "The Trout" to "How Dry I am"!