I finally have my new washer. It only took three weeks, 19 hours of phone calls to Sears, three trips to the laundromat, $56 in quarters and a visit to Lowes, but by golly, it's spewing out clean clothes.
We own a home in Chesapeake, VA that we are renting to a military family. I love my Neptune washer and dryer in that house - but since it is a front loading washer, Sears requires a $180 service call to "pin" the mechanisms for the move- or it will void the warranty purchased with the machine. So long $300. Plus, the laundry room was built around the appliances -so we left the washer and dryer with house. After all, how hard is it to get a new washer and dryer? They sell them everywhere - as a matter of fact, I saw one for sale in the parking lot of 7-11.
As it turns out - if your purchasing a major appliance from Sears - the answer to the previous question is "pretty (expletive expletive expletive) hard.
I did my research. I knew exactly what I wanted and did not want. I'm a simple kind of gal -I move about every two years - so no gadgets, no digital readouts, no front loaders. It has to be a large capacity - there are 5 of us. I'd be happy with an on/off switch and maybe an optional fabric softener disposal - but if that is too frilly - back to the on/off. Same with the dryer. Ultimately, I purchased a GE Energy Star qualified washer and dryer. Yea me. I even managed to go green. This was done on June 29. I chose this particular combo because it had the shortest delivery time - even though all through the Sears Appliance Center I read "NEXT DAY DELIVERY" on almost every wall. "Jarel" said the delivery delay was due to the holiday weekend, even though by my calendar, the holiday was a good 6 days away. I'm nice. I didn't push. I could enjoy a laundry free 4th of July. (Although I'd been without a washer since June 23rd.)
July 2 I can't stand it any more and go to the Laun-do-rama in this cute little picturesque Maybury like town. I took in four loads of clothes figuring I had enough towels to get me through until the delivery.
It was hot. It was hard work carrying in all the clothes baskets. It was expensive - although maybe I really didn't have to buy the iced latte, dammit, I deserved it. It wasn't until I was folding the clothes I realized I had not washed one single shirt, short or sock of my eldest son. Kind of funny. But not really. He could wait until the 7th. I was home by 10:30 a.m. and fantasized about how my life would change when Sears showed up at my door.
Apparently, while I was gone, everyone decided to change their clothes at least 3 and shower 4 times a day with a fresh towel. I found myself back at the laund-do-rama July 7. This time it's 8 loads of clothes and two loads of towels. Again, by myself, hot, dirty, and nothing to read. Someone had cleaned out my quarter stash in the car. Miang, the attendant, and my new best friend, offered me a job because "You very efficient." Not so efficient that I failed to notice my 2nd son didn't have a stitch of clothing in the lot. There was nothing funny about that. I bought an iced latte and a muffin. God was against me, too. The muffin was burnt.
Ah, sweet Jesus. July 7 arrived and my bounty pulled up at 10:15. 10:45 I make my first service call to Sears. I try to explain to them that while water is in the washer - there is no movement of any sort. Yes, the water will drain, but again, no movement and the clothes are sopping wet. Deborah tells me to make sure the washer is plugged in. The tells me to drop the lid the magnet connects. Great suggestions if your an idiot and are not familiar with a washing machine. Seven phone calls and several hours later, Sears, Sears Delivery, Sears customer Service, Sears Customer Solutions and Sears Credit all confirm that a new washer will be delivered on July 14 and the other washer taken away. It is important to understand that each department is a separate entity of Sears and there is no communication between any of them. Although each did suggest I wait for a repairman on July22. Thank you, no. I want a new washer, not a new washer that has been fixed.
July 14 comes. Manuel and Jesus pick up my washer in the Irony Mobile - a panelled van that says "Next Day Delivery, Guaranteed." They load up the washer, but, wait a minute, they want my dryer, too - and guess what - there is no replacement for either. After Jesus makes several phone calls - he hands me the phone and Bonnie in Delivery tells me the replacement order is currently in production and will arrive on July 27.
Uh, no. Thus begins my 9 hour session with Sears where I finally realized Sears could give a crap about me, my laundry, my life, my dirty clothes, my second grade teacher, the wheels on the bus or the possible demise of No Child Left Behind.
Too late for a long story short - but basically, every single department blamed every single other department to include the the offspring of Jesus. Bottom line - their solution was to make me wait until July 27 - the magic day GE would give birth to this special appliance. I could, if I wanted to, go back to Sears and pick out another washer and dryer - but they couldn't promise a delivery before June 23 due to the tremendous success of the July 4 holiday sale. Oh for God's sake. I live 30 miles from Washington, DC. Not one Sears has this washer in a warehouse?
At 4:30 I just gave up. I put my head on the table and upon opening my eyes saw I had been resting on a Lowes advertisement. What the hell.
I got in my car. Drove to Stafford. Walked in to Lowes. Asked if they had this particular washer in stock. Yes, they did. How soon could I have it? Next day delivery. Bought within two minutes of entering the store - and cheaper than Sears.
Hmm. Sears is right in front of Lowes. The exact same Sears I started at. Walked in, slammed my receipt down - made them credit my account in front of me and take the delivery charge off. Buck need permission to do that - because after all, the product was delivered. It got ugly. I won, though. Delivery charge credited as well. And account cancelled - card cut up in front of Buck. Tears in his eyes. Glee in mine.
Doorbell rang at 7:30 this morning. I had a full load of laundry spinning by 8:00.
Day went exceedingly well. Tide. Bleach. The smell of clean clothes. Phone rings at 3:00. Sears wants to know when they can pick up my washing machine that had been delivered.
I hope Lowes sells carpet cleaners to clean up the remnants of my head exploding.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
The Joy of Moving
Ah, truly - there is joy in moving. While it may not be fun or enjoyable to watch coffee tables fall off moving trucks, finding broken antique marble heirlooms in your driveway or a suit jacket mixed in with pots and pans --- moving really does bring me some private joy in a way that nothing else can.
It's not the meeting of new people. Or the excitement of finding new haunts and hangouts. Or even the thought of getting something new whether it be a lamp, a pillow or even curtains. It's the simple joy of remembering where things have come from.
The big ticket items like the furniture and carpets - eh - who cares. They were purchased with care - but to me they are just things. Maybe my kids will have fond memories of the green sectional sofa that has been delegated to the basement because I hate it and this basement is the only place it has ever fit. I'm talking about the little things that don't mean anything to anyone except me.
Unpacking the kitchen can be a chore - but it is always the first thing I tackle. As I unwrap each dish, crock or serving utensil - I can remember where it came from. I have a blue checked plate that reminds me of a birthday in Okinawa from my friend Meg. It was made in her hometown in Massachusetts - and the thought of her carrying it back from a vacation to give to me for my 30th birthday just makes me smile. I have a quiche plate that is the only thing I have ever won at Bunko. I don't make quiche all that often, but I refuse to get rid of the plate that made me a winner. I have a cake cutter from a friend in NC. Nothing special about it - I just like it and she knew I needed one.
I have a lot of stuff from my mother's kitchen. Two of my favorite items are cook books from when I was a little girl. The Cooky Book is my favorite book - I remember poring through it with my sister wondering why my mom never made any of the cool cookies. (Could it be because she had 4 kids and no time? Maybe!) There is a gingerbread house that I swore I would make one day. I haven't done it yet, but as long as the book is here - there is hope. The other book is a Betty Crocker collection my mother received as a shower gift. I have a picture of me sitting on the counter at the age of two licking batters with the cook book next to the bowl. There is something oddly comforting about that photo, the book and the beaters.
My favorite kitchen serving ware also came from my mother. She gave me a sterling silver lazy Susan tray with individual crystal serving dishes for vegetables and dip. I had never seen it until I got married. She had received it as a wedding gift from a relative and always thought it was too nice to use. The gift card was still attached. That makes me sad. How can something be too nice to use? I use it at every party even though the silver is a little tarnished. It makes me think of my parents in the early part of their marriage.
The other piece or pieces my mother gave me were used by her. I had some girls over for a Mary Kay party when I was 18. I didn't even know what Mary Kay was let alone why I would be have some friends over. My father had recently died and it felt kind of weird to be doing something so trivial as to trying out make up. But Mom said to have them over. Mary Kay requires a food treat - so who the heck knows what I planned to serve Mary, Bobbi and Jan - (yes, really!) - but I do remember being shocked when Mom pulled out these adorable triangle plates with matching cups! Who cares what your eating when your eating off something as cute as this bridge set! I never knew my mom had anything as darling as these dishes! Again - she thought they were too nice to use. There is something ironic about pulling out the good dishes after someone dies.
Anyway, I own them now - and while I don't use them every day - if someone is over for lunch - they are my dish of choice!
So, while everyone else organizes bedrooms and alphabetizes the garage - I have my own private memory party in my kitchen and dining room. And it lasts until someone informs me that we have no food.
It's not the meeting of new people. Or the excitement of finding new haunts and hangouts. Or even the thought of getting something new whether it be a lamp, a pillow or even curtains. It's the simple joy of remembering where things have come from.
The big ticket items like the furniture and carpets - eh - who cares. They were purchased with care - but to me they are just things. Maybe my kids will have fond memories of the green sectional sofa that has been delegated to the basement because I hate it and this basement is the only place it has ever fit. I'm talking about the little things that don't mean anything to anyone except me.
Unpacking the kitchen can be a chore - but it is always the first thing I tackle. As I unwrap each dish, crock or serving utensil - I can remember where it came from. I have a blue checked plate that reminds me of a birthday in Okinawa from my friend Meg. It was made in her hometown in Massachusetts - and the thought of her carrying it back from a vacation to give to me for my 30th birthday just makes me smile. I have a quiche plate that is the only thing I have ever won at Bunko. I don't make quiche all that often, but I refuse to get rid of the plate that made me a winner. I have a cake cutter from a friend in NC. Nothing special about it - I just like it and she knew I needed one.
I have a lot of stuff from my mother's kitchen. Two of my favorite items are cook books from when I was a little girl. The Cooky Book is my favorite book - I remember poring through it with my sister wondering why my mom never made any of the cool cookies. (Could it be because she had 4 kids and no time? Maybe!) There is a gingerbread house that I swore I would make one day. I haven't done it yet, but as long as the book is here - there is hope. The other book is a Betty Crocker collection my mother received as a shower gift. I have a picture of me sitting on the counter at the age of two licking batters with the cook book next to the bowl. There is something oddly comforting about that photo, the book and the beaters.
My favorite kitchen serving ware also came from my mother. She gave me a sterling silver lazy Susan tray with individual crystal serving dishes for vegetables and dip. I had never seen it until I got married. She had received it as a wedding gift from a relative and always thought it was too nice to use. The gift card was still attached. That makes me sad. How can something be too nice to use? I use it at every party even though the silver is a little tarnished. It makes me think of my parents in the early part of their marriage.
The other piece or pieces my mother gave me were used by her. I had some girls over for a Mary Kay party when I was 18. I didn't even know what Mary Kay was let alone why I would be have some friends over. My father had recently died and it felt kind of weird to be doing something so trivial as to trying out make up. But Mom said to have them over. Mary Kay requires a food treat - so who the heck knows what I planned to serve Mary, Bobbi and Jan - (yes, really!) - but I do remember being shocked when Mom pulled out these adorable triangle plates with matching cups! Who cares what your eating when your eating off something as cute as this bridge set! I never knew my mom had anything as darling as these dishes! Again - she thought they were too nice to use. There is something ironic about pulling out the good dishes after someone dies.
Anyway, I own them now - and while I don't use them every day - if someone is over for lunch - they are my dish of choice!
So, while everyone else organizes bedrooms and alphabetizes the garage - I have my own private memory party in my kitchen and dining room. And it lasts until someone informs me that we have no food.
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