The third one really is a charm

by Katie on April 19, 2011

The third year of marriage, that is.

As we approach that milestone day marking our three years of wedded tolerance bliss, I can finally mark two things off my (our) wish list.

  1. The infamous Man Closet finally met its demise.
  2. We are now the proud owners of our very own washer and dryer. Inside our house.

The Man Closet

What was formerly a home to Round-Up, paint brushes, nails, screwdrivers, drills and an assortment of PVC pipe pieces and fittings, and just about every other man thing you can imagine, including a corn cob pipe, is no longer.

Technically, it can now be dubbed The Unisex Closet, because while I did store a few large tupperware and drink containers and a cake plate, I also included the deep fryer, ice cream maker (both of which only Brandon has used), meat grinder, food slicer and dehydrator for jerky making.

Not only did this remove hazardous chemicals from our kitchen, it also freed the entire closet shelf in The Hunting Room (which may or may not be the first step in wiping that room out as well).

I think I at least get points for going the Unisex route with the closet, rather than all the way from Man to Lady. Am I right?

What am I talking about? I get points for having this thing in my kitchen for nearly-three years. Period.

The Washing Machine

That’s right, folks. We are now nearly fully self sufficient adults.

I’m not even going to begin the saga that is our washing machine story, played out over the past three years. It began here. And here. And has about seven more segments. Someday I might hash them all out. For now, I’m going to bask in the glory that is walking twenty feet to a washing machine.

I took our employee to help me load the machines we purchased on a Wednesday. He then helped me unload them on a Thursday, because Brandon didn’t have time (Really. It was an insane week for both of us, and I threw “pick up a washing machine” in the mix. Not that I had a choice on the date, but I digress…). This is when I realized I had not grabbed the dryer vent-hose-thing. (Which, yes, Brandon specifically told me to make sure I got. And I did think I had it. But we had taken Brandon’s truck to pick up the machines, which is basically like taking a farm shop on wheels, so I had mistaken a fertilizer hose for the dryer hose.) So, Friday, I went back and picked up the dryer hose. Saturday, I connected the machines, but decided I should probably have Brandon check my connection job before I invited a flood of water into our laundry room. And finally, on Sunday morning, I began my first load of laundry.

Sunday night, as I was wrapping up my 13th load (no lie), Brandon was asking how the machines were working and about how happy I was to wash clothes in our own house. In true Katie fashion, I over-exaggerated and embellished my happiness for him.

Then I said, “You know, you’re really lucky you married me,” referring to the fact I waited patiently for the luxury of not hauling my laundry across town.

To which he replied, “You have no idea…”

I’m going to tell myself he wasn’t just talking about the washing machine.


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