Today my lovely new washing machine was delivered by some very smiley John Lewis van men. Their smiles were soon wiped off their faces when they saw the machine they were taking away. My old Dyson, huge, heavy, beautifully purple, clashed nicely with their red faces as they hauled it out over the steps and onto the trolley to be heaved into the darkness of their van. They said Dyson washing machines were their absolute nightmare, especially if the place they were removing it from was upstairs in a tenement building.
One of the things I hadn't realised was just how much the purple of the Dyson sucked the spaciousness out of our utility room. Our new Bosch, all clean lines and white makes the room look so much bigger.
The other thing I hadn't realised was just how noisy our old machine
had become. The new machine is so quiet we hardly know it's on. And on
it's certainly been, to cater with the mass laundry pile that's been
accumulating over the last week.
Still, now we've got a washing machine that works, I feel my life is back to normal - even if that normal is a lot quieter than it was before.
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