A week ago yesterday was when I called Dyson about my dead Animal. I blogged about it here. As the woman advised, I called again on Sunday with my vacuum close at hand. The first thing the support person asked for was the serial number. She wasn’t nearly as friendly as the Friday one had been. Maybe she was ticked because she had to work on the weekend. I’d written the number on a slip of paper and had it in my purse but I couldn’t locate it quickly enough to suit her. Giving up, I turned the vacuum over and looked at the bottom, reading off the serial number. After my experience with the neighbor’s clogged machine, I looked more closely and voilà! I spied a clog.
Starting to dig it out, I told the woman I’d called for no reason. I’d found a clog I’d missed before. I was attacking it from the bottom and making some headway but not much. The woman was increasingly impatient and ordered me to take a hose off. It was transparent and I could see it wasn’t clogged but she insisted. She told me exactly how to do it and, following her instructions, I was very successful (that’s for my sisters). When I did that, I could get to the clog from the top and I pushed it out easily. I put the hose back on and told the woman I would call back if it still wouldn’t work. I’d vacuumed up a nail that had lodged crosswise and that collected Twinkle hair and other debris that blocked everything. Dyson has built in a feature that shuts off the motor to keep it from burning up and that’s what it was doing.
I commenced to vacuuming. I got past the place where the motor had been routinely quitting and it kept going. And going. And going. It was like the Energizer Bunny. There was no stopping it. I stood it up and let it keep running so I could take care of something else and it didn’t stall out once. It was healed. Resurrected. Dead no longer.
It had been so long since I’d used it, I’d almost forgotten all the neat things about it. You know those small spaces that are too big for a crevice tool but too small to get into any other way? There’s a little attachment with a whirling dervish of a brush that you can put on the end of the wand and get to those places. The cord is so long, I can plug it into the wall in the middle of the house and almost get to each end without changing it. Then there’s the wand + hose—stretched out, it’s a full 17 feet. Now, no other brand I know of has that.
Well, I could go on rhapsodizing about my Dyson Animal but I won’t. There are other things to cover.
It had been raining off and on but, during a break in the weather, I took a chance and put two sets of sheets on the line. Thanks to one of my Facebook friends, I went out and got them in, dry, just before the next shower came through. I slept on clean sheets that night.
Monday, it was back to work and deleting unwanted/unneeded emails. The work week was much the same as usual. No big whoop-de-do over anything.
Until yesterday. We were alerted that a pickup truck full of local corn picked that morning would be coming in. I called my neighbor and got voice mail. Leaving her a message, I waited for her call back. Sure enough, here it came. She said, “I listened to your message twice and wasn’t sure I understood it. You want to talk to me about porn??” I just about fell off my chair, laughing. “NO!” said I. “I wanted to talk to you about CORN!” I proceeded to tell her that I would get her whatever she wanted if she were going to be home this weekend. Well, yes, she would be here and would like a dozen. I hung up with the tears coming out of my eyes from laughing so much.
The corn came, as promised, and I got bags full. It’s still somewhat small but, boy! is it good! When I got home, I gave it to her husband and he put it in the fridge. I had to clear out a spot to get mine in. He’d brought some stakes for my humongous tomato plants that were pulling the cages over and propped them up until I can do a more permanent fix. The other day, I’d gone out to check them and found this:
It was delicious! I’m just sorry none were ripe while DD was here.
I made the mistake of going to Wally World after that. I do believe everyone in the county and maybe the surrounding ones had the same idea. I was standing in a LONG line and one of the cashiers must’ve thought I looked especially pitiful. She didn’t open her line but she motioned me over and checked out my purchases. I thanked her for rescuing me.
When I got home, I ate a banana to hold me over until I got everything unloaded and put away. After that, I didn’t finish eating supper until almost bedtime. Too late but I slept well in spite of it.
This morning, I was in trouble. After I played “Jesus Loves Me” for the children’s story, I was going to run out to the bathroom but was stopped dead in my tracks because a couple of the men were going to sing a duet and I didn’t want to miss it. Then, one of my favorite women was speaking so I waited until I was almost miserable before I escaped. Then my cousin came into the bathroom and we started talking. The time passed quickly and I told her I’d better get back inside. When I walked in the door, I saw the speaker with the hymnal and I thought, “Uh-oh!”. I made it down to the organ as quickly as I could. The pianist looked at me and grinned. I played the closing song, the dismissal and the postlude and we were out.
And I was right. Not one person mentioned my leaving last Sabbath evening. I was not missed at all.
My afternoon has been a pleasant one filled with good summertime food and water kefir. I visited with my neighbor and she told me about some of the problems she’s had with work. At least I don’t have to deal with instructions in a foreign language. I have some plans up my sleeve that I’m going to talk to her about tomorrow. Until then…