Twin tub

You know there's those gender stereotypes of the guy who's competent with mechanical devices and the chick who can't understand them. I do have a certain empathy with that notion because, more than once, I've tried to explain to a female how to change down in a car and honestly, it was like talking to a rabbit. I just got silence, a strange look and the absolute certainty that no meaningful communication passed between us. The thing is though, those stereotypes rely on a false assumption, that assumption being, you need to know how something works to use it effectively. Yes it's true, women go through clutches on their cars like a baby on a prune diet goes through nappies but they still manage to get from A to B on a regular basis. The real proof of this concept though, is the automatic washing machine, have you seen how effortlessly women use those things? Put a guy in the same position and you're talking either Vesuvius or the deluge in the kitchen. Why should this be I wonder, well I put it down to something called the black box concept, although in this context white box would probably be more appropriate.

A black box in science or engineering terms, is a device which has an opaque mechanism. You put something in one end and something else comes out the other, you don't bother to look inside to see what's happening. Automatic washing machines epitomise the black box, you put soap powder and dirty laundry in, presto chango, clean laundry comes out. I don't know about you but as a guy, that all seems all perfectly reasonable, so how is it I can never get the thing to work properly? I've done all the research, I know about water hardness, temperature, low foaming detergents, suffocants, the lot and yet about 20% of the time it's a complete disaster. I'm not the only one either because I've noticed, there's a distinct preference for twin tubs with guys who do their own laundry and of course, this being the case, twin tubs are pretty much impossible to buy. This is because they stopped making them, or rather, they stopped making them here but--this is not the case everywhere. If you live in Asia, the middle east, South America pretty much the whole of the world except for Europe and North America, you can buy the modern equivalent of a twin tub, yeah thanks for that.

In truth, there a few modern twin tub washers available as grey imports, the problem being, importers have been bringing in the cheapest and lowest quality items, in effort to get a decent return on their outlay. So guess what's happened as a consequence--yeah that's right, classic twin tubs, the Hotpoints and the Hoovers, now command a premium on the second hand market. You're talking about £160 for a working example, so my advice to you, is if  you got a twin tub, don't throw it away.

To Ed.

What an interesting day it was today, it started out quite sunny, as if a bank holiday Monday might be a fine day for a change. So I sauntered into the garden, to inspect a hole that I'm preparing for a laundry pole. I dug it a little deeper than it probably needs to be, because I like my laundry about fifteen foot off the ground and the last pole started to shift in the ground under the tension of the washing line. Only yesterday I was thinking that the hole might represent a hazard for passing wild life, in the same manner as a tiger trap. So what do I find when I peer into the hole, what else would it be but a toad? That's right, toad in the hole, so I thought bugger, I'm gonna have to fetch him out. Meanwhile I'll try pouring some water in, even though he's not in direct sunlight, he still must be a bit dehydrated. Well the water going in makes him fidget a bit and he does manage to get about a third the way out of the hole but not far enough. So I stick a hoe in, reasoning that he might climb up the pole. I took a break at this juncture, popping to the corner shop for tea and fags and by the time I get back to the toad, it's about an hour and half later, the sun has gone and we're well into bank holiday weather, leaden skies, rain threatening. There he is back at the bottom of the hole, only he's conveniently sitting on the blade of the hoe; I did put on some rubber gloves (toads are poisonous to touch aren't they?) but I don't need 'em. I manage to fetch him out and he hops of the end of the hoe into next door's garden; there's a hen in mine and I don't want it poisoned with toad on the menu. I used to get a lot of toads in the garden, no idea where they come from, the nearest gravel pit's about half a mile away, I suppose this must just be one of their places.