Swipper Hell

Saturday morning. Raining. Cool. We haven’t had this sort of weather for quite awhile. I am so accustomed to thinking it is always going to be 100° F. (And so at war the ASCII code for the degree symbol. Just had to look it up. Such is the power of obsessive-compulsive disorder. Why don’t they just put the darn thing on the keyboard? I wonder if I can map it to a key?)
Dorothea left for a morning shift at one of her many jobs. I don’t recall her saying goodbye. I imagine that I was being unpleasant, and couldn’t blame, and also doubt it is true. I must have blodded out.
Liam came down. Checked on how the Twins are doing, and made himself some oatmeal in the microwave. That process can take awhile, especially the part where he is pouring maple syrup into the bowl. After, I asked and he compliantly practiced his guitar. (Wonder if he washed his hands?)
I made some coffee, loaded the dishwasher. Though not quite full, I ran it anyway. (I am evil.) I also ran it on “Pot Scrubber” mode. I am hoping that’ll help the pot I scorched on Thursday steaming beans and it ran out of water.
Dorothea took the stove off the appliance health care plan and put the washer on it. The washer is a top loader. It has been leaking water into the drum, and I have been concerned about it going “off balance” during spin cycles. I was hoping that there was a way to get it to shutoff automatically when it goes off balance, but the guy said that there’s only one brand that has such, and it isn’t ours. He propped a piece of wood under one of the feet of the washer to even it out. I didn’t hear if he fixed the leak.
Of course, growing up, someone in our families would have dealt with these issues. Fathers, brothers, maybe even neighborhood handymen would have jumped in. No more.
The kitchen floor is sticky to the barefoot. So I vacuumed it. Never really did that before. But I am such a crappy sweeper, I thought vacuuming has got to be better. Then came a long ordeal with the Swipper mop. The pad was ucky. Changing that was okay, though it was the last pad. But then it became apparent that the batteries were dead. Liam actually found four “AA” batteries. We were still alive. (Finding, opening the battery compartment, removing old batteries, inserting new, and closing the compartment–none of these were gimmes.) The soap bottle was empty. No replacement. I know that Dorothea hates that stuff. She is probably right. So I went to the basement, to the workbench corner, what was probably once the male heart and center of the house, and clumsily pounded a nail into the bottle to create a hole so I could pour soap in. We don’t have a little funnel. The pouring in didn’t work out to well. I gave up after awhile of attempting to pour soapy water into the hole, but little went in, and of that, most ran out the bottom again.
Liam finished Swippering the floor.