Tag Archives: husband

Dishwasher Deathmatch

Last week, I told you about lessons learned from my dishwasher. I missed a few things in that post. First, I really dislike handwashing dishes. Wait, I probably said that, didn’t I?  The real take away since then?  Replacing that fuse is a deathmatch in six rounds.

You see, I wrote that first post several days ago with the luxury of time to make me forget about the last time we changed the fuse. All weekend, I was drinking from a firehose at WANACon, and my husband was working on his truck. The fuse didn’t get fixed.

This is not a one-person job.

Oh, it is on, Dishwasher!

Oh, it is on, Dishwasher!

If you have a Samsung dishwasher, there is a good chance you’ll need to know how to do this if it stops working for no apparent reason (unless you’re willing to pay a handyman). Even if you pay a handyman, you’ll still have to do Deathmatch Rounds 2 and 6 and probably 5.

Deathmatch Round 1

Gather the tools:

  • Crescent wrenches (we had two–not sure if we used them both)
  • Screwdrivers (flathead and Phillips)
  • Pliers (I’m not sure what my husband used these for.)
  • The new fuse (pointless activity without it)
  • Old towels (Lots of them to mop up the water that will drain from the dishwasher)
  • At least 5 hands (two people can handle most of it, but we needed a third person.)

Deathmatch Round 2

Now that you have all the tools, empty all the cabinets in your kitchen. Kidding!  Just empty everything under the sink and the cabinets that the pipes run through.  Our dishwasher is two cabinets away from the sink. I couldn’t bear to take a picture of that mess, but I did take one of the hidden treat stash that we found:

I don't even want to know how old that stuff was...

I don’t even want to know how old that stuff was…

Deathmatch Round 3

Turn off the water under the sink.

Don't forget this step...

Don’t forget this step… This shows the water is on.

Decouple both the intake and drain pipes. This is what ours look like:

In the cabinet next to the cabinet next to the dishwasher

In the cabinet next to the cabinet next to the dishwasher

Some water will leak from the pipes, so have a towel ready. We also used a casserole dish to catch most of the water.

Pull the tubing through the holes into the cabinet next door.  Be prepared for more leakage in the next cabinet over–unless you have only one cabinet to worry about. You need enough slack in the tubing to be able to pull the dishwasher out.

In the cabinet next to the dishwasher

In the cabinet next to the dishwasher…

Deathmatch Round 4

Unscrew the dishwasher baseplate. Rock and pull the sides until the dishwasher is free of the cabinetry.  If it doesn’t want to come out, check the side for a clip that’s keeping it in place. (We remembered that one after much use of creative language.) Be careful of the padding around the top.

Deathmatch Round 5

Use towels to get as much water as possible out of the inside of the dishwasher. If that someone helping you says, “Oh, that’s not much water. Don’t worry about it,” then slap him on the back of the head (Gibbs style from NCIS), and dry out the inside of the dishwasher.  (Yes, I should have done both!)

Stand in front of the dishwasher and lean it forward at a 45-degree angle. If you missed the last step of drying out the standing dishwater, you now have wet socks and water running all over the floor. This when I yelled for The Mockingbird to bring more towels because I didn’t have enough.

She came in handy (there’s that fifth hand) when we realized that my husband was under the dishwasher (unscrewing the fusebox plate), I was holding it up (it was heavy after awhile), and the fuse was on the counter (not the place it needed to be).

How can something this small wreak so much havoc?

How can something this small wreak so much havoc?

After the new fuse goes in, reverse the process.

Deathmatch Round 6

Clean up a huge mess (all the while wondering how that much crap fit in the cabinets), mop the floor, and load the dishwasher with all the dishes you didn’t feel like handwashing earlier.

I’m not sure who won this deathmatch. This was a traumatic experience for me. All that fixing and cleaning at the same time… 😀

I didn’t get a picture of the dishwasher’s nether parts. I imagine if I’d asked my husband to snap a photo while he was down there with old dishwasher water pooling nearby, he might have smacked me on the back of the head when his hands were free. As I’m snapping the other shots, he said, “Let me take it all apart for you again so you can get that picture. NOT.”

Good luck!

No people or dishwashers were injured during the making of this blog.

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Lessons Learned from a Dishwasher

Last week, I was a total blogging slacker. So sorry to disappear like that, but you know how life gets in the way sometimes. Now I’m back with a vengeance.

Well, if I could take out revenge on a dishwasher….

Not how I expected to spend my morning...

Not how I expected to spend my morning…

It’s not the dishwasher’s fault. So instead, my wrath should be pointed at the genii (pronounced jee-nee-ahy)* who designed the dishwasher with the fuse on the worst possible place–the inside as far back as possible.

Seriously?  Did any of those guys think that the fuse would last forever? Did they try to extract the dishwasher and replace a fuse?

Their Quality Assurance department was short at least one test case: “Can a mermaid housewife husband change the fuse easily?”

If the dishwasher hadn’t blown a fuse the first week after we bought it, we might not have know that the fuse was the trouble. The store sent a service guy over. He showed us (mostly because we watched) that he had to extract the entire dishwasher from the cabinets and tilt it over wildly (without tumping it on its side) to get to the fuse. Then, he had to right the appliance and rock it back into position under the counter.

Are you kidding me?

I had to empty the dishwasher and wash it all by hand. Grrrr.

Lessons learned from this dishwasher and what we’ll do next time we buy one:

  1. Where is the fuse located and how easy is it to change? (Not kidding. We had no idea this was something to think about.)
  2. Does it clean well? (Despite good reviews, this one doesn’t. *pout*)
  3. Does it match the other appliances? (Yeah, this shouldn’t be number 1 on the list. *smirk*)

*The word genii is a plural of the word genius. It’s not as common as geniuses (and is mostly related to the mythical geniis), but it’s The Mockingbird’s favorite form of the word, so I use it. 🙂

I debated about telling you who makes this dishwasher, but I didn’t.  Hmmm… *cough*Samsung*cough*

What appliance lessons have you learned? Could you or do you live without a dishwasher?

New Phone, Hijacked!

I just got a new phone.  It’s the Samsung Galaxy S3 and a huge upgrade from my Galaxy S, which now feels tiny and insignificant in my hand.

There’s something about setting up a new phone.  Yeah, sure, the phone store migrated all my files and contacts.  What they didn’t migrate and what Google fails at is migrating all my free apps. Purchased apps aren’t a problem at all, because I reinstalled them from Google Play market.

My free apps are stuck in limbo, or I have to start from scratch.  Google needs to fix that problem–it’s a place the iPhone has them completely beat (so says my husband).

My munchkin lost a couple of her games in the process.  Now she can play with my old GS on wifi instead of hijacking my new phone, but Tap Fish may be gone forever (I’m not missing that one).

Speaking of hijacking, which is where this was all supposed to be going anyway, my new phone has been hijacked, mostly by The Husband, The Teenager, and a friend.  How do I know they take my GS3 when I’m not looking?

Because they leave evidence.

Exhibits A, B, and C:

hijacked2

hijacked3

image

There are many others that should not be publicized (although I might still!) and others that The Teenager has threatened me with horribleness (such as never returning my fiction books) if I post them.

Honestly, if the pictures are on my phone, then they are blogging fodder.

Phone hijackers, beware!

You Had Me at “Lighted Keyboard”

One day my husband asked me if I wanted a MacBook.  I hesitated.  I’m a computer girl.   I use three different versions of Windows at work.  I understand how the operating systems work.  He was asking me if I wanted to learn yet another operating system, and I didn’t like it.  His Mac baffled me even more than his iPhone did.

Honey: “You need to upgrade from that tiny netbook.”

Me: “But I like my netbook.  It fits in my purse bottomless pit.”

My netbook with its custom skin.

Honey: “You’ll like the size of the screen better.”

Me: “I don’t use the netbook for that much stuff.  I don’t need bigger.”

Honey: “You’re blogging now.”

Me: “I’ll think about it.”  What I was thinking: “I don’t want to think about it.  Mac scares me.”

Later that afternoon, I was typing away at our home computer in the study.  It got dark in the room as the sun went down.  I had to turn the light on so I could continue working.

You can stop laughing.

I’d like to think I’m a fairly decent typist, er, keyboarder.  I took typing in high school on a electric typewriter and was good enough to earn the privilege to type on one of the fancy advanced ones that had correction tape.

I’m not saying I was great and error free. Being able to type came in handy in college when I had to write ten page papers.  (I didn’t feel sorry for my friends when they complained about three pages.)

By the time I graduated from grad school, typing class was called keyboarding.  Students learned on computers–disabled backspace key, no correction tape.  I still call it typing.

Here’s the thing.  I can type without looking at the keyboard.  I can type with my eyes closed.  I cannot type in the dark.

Seriously, you can stop laughing now.

What is it that makes my fingers completely misbehave when the sun goes down and darkens my home office?  It’s not as if my fingers can see what they are typing.

My husband walked by and said, “The Mac has a lighted keyboard.”

Sold!

He could have lead with that feature.

Since then, I’ve been learning how to navigate my updated MacBook Pro.  Switching desktops, deleting files, finding files–it was enough to overwhelm me at first.  I told a friend (an avid Mac user) and he welcomed me to the Dark Side.

The double-finger and triple-finger swiping are getting comfortable.  So much so that I tried double-finger scrolling on my work laptop this week.  Just so you know, it didn’t work, and I was disappointed.  How did that happen so fast, my acclimating to the Dark Side that is Apple?

My little netbook with its custom made skin sits quietly in a corner waiting for me to use it. Sorry, it’s not going to happen. It doesn’t have a lighted keyboard.

Now, I can type in the dark. *happy dance*

Are you still laughing?  What kind of computer do you use?

If you’re checking, here are my ROW80 goals for the week:

  • Finish the minutes for the PTA meeting and send them for approval.
  • The back garden beds are ready, so now I need to plant kale, spinach, and carrot seeds.
  • Write as if I’m not a NaNoWriMo rebel this week.  😀
  • Make chicken soup and venison stew for the week.
  • Get back to 3 or more blogging posts a week.

Mustard. Bleh.

I don’t like mustard.  I never have.  There is no explanation for my dislike of the yellow condiment.  There was no childhood food trauma that made me hate it.

Not mustard again?!
Image by Lynn Kelley via WANA Commons

It is perhaps the one flavor that can be hidden in almost anything, and I’ll be able to taste it.  The rest of the dish is ruined for me after that.  OK, maybe not deviled eggs, unless they are really mustardy.

Usually, my husband and I split a burger.  I can’t eat a whole one.  He can add mustard to his half of the sandwich if he wants to.  He can even have my pickles.  After 20 years of marriage, my husband still finds it amusing when my head spins 360 degrees around on my neck and the pea soup spews when the drive-thru attendant gets my order wrong and puts mustard on my burger.

“You can just wipe it off,” my husband says.

*cue demonic voice* “No, you can’t just wipe it off. ”

(I can be a little scary sometimes. <sheepish grin>)

If I can see yellow, then I can taste mustard.  That’s a perfectly good Whatabuger wasted.  I’ll taste that mustard in my mouth forever.  Bleh.

Today, I had about 20 minutes to pick up dinner and get to my daughter’s school to help set up for Fall Festival.  I looked forward to my Whataburger–we don’t eat them very often.  It had mustard, even after the guy who took my order repeated “dry” to me.

Bleh.  I scraped it off and replaced the lettuce and tomatoes (because, yes, they were yellow) with the ones on the burger my daughters were splitting (because, yes, he got theirs wrong, too). Then covered the remaining yellow in Stubb’s Barbeque Sauce.

And took a bite.  Sigh.  I tried very hard not to taste the bit of mustard that was left.  I tried very hard to remember that it wasn’t worth being upset about a condiment.  My husband was really happy with his half of the burger, after all.

So what, I didn’t enjoy the burger like I wanted to, but it’s just food and there will be other burgers.  I still don’t like mustard.

I did find this hilarious clip about mustard from Joss Whedon’s Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode called “Once More with Feeling.”  It’s the only mustard I like.

I may have mentioned once or twice that I’m a geek. 😀 I own the soundtrack for the episode as well as the entire season (and maybe a few other seasons, too).

What about you?  Is there a condiment or other food that you just will not eat?  Are you one of those people who actually like mustard?

Flash Mob Failure

At dark-thirty this morning, my husband started texting me.  Here’s our conversation:

The Husband: Got here early just to find AA doesn’t open until 5

The Husband: The Fun

Me: Ick
(What do you expect?  It was dark-thirty.)

The Husband: Sing I am bored, standing here with 25 of my closest friends

Me: Start a round of “Row, Row Your Boat”

The Husband: Great idea. It will be on YouTube in a few

I asked my husband when he landed safely and returned home about that promised YouTube video of his closest friends waiting for the AA counter to open and singing rounds of “Row, Row Your Boat.”  Do you know what he said?

“Yeah, right.”

I admit that I didn’t expect him to create a video and post it, but that would have been cool to see an impromptu flash mob sing rounds in front of the AA counter while they waited for their flights to be delayed the counter to open.  I am glad my husband’s flight was not on the list of 300 canceled flights and was on time.

Anyway, flash mobs are fascinating.  A request goes out into cyberspace, the routine is posted, people practice it, and then they all show up and perform at the appointed time.  There are websites devoted to events.  There was one called Coloring Book Flash Mob this summer.  I so would have done that if it had been local (and I knew about it).  Any excuse to stop what I’m doing and use crayons for five uninterrupted minutes!

Here’s one at an airport in March this year:

What do you think about flash mobs?  Have you ever participated in one?  Would you dance, sing, or color with a group of strangers and then walk away as if nothing happened?  Use the handy comments box below and let me know. 

Celebrate World Chocolate Day

Today is World Chocolate Day.  Yum!  Chocolate is so popular that it has at least four other national days and a national week.  (Can you say marketing? Who makes these things up?)

The “Love you” squares were perfect to celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary.

Dark chocolate is my favorite.  I’m talking about 70-85% dark chocolate.  More than that is too bitter for me.  Less than that is too sweet.

The darker the chocolate is, the more bitter it tastes.  A former co-worker used to break off a tiny piece of 90-95% dark chocolate, put it on her tongue, and then sip her black coffee.  I tried it, but it was all too dark–I’m not a black coffee drinker to begin with.  She had definitely acquired a taste for the combination.

Rather than going on a semi-sweet rant about Dark Chocolate vs. Milk Chocolate, I’d like to share with you some handmade chocolates from around the world.  It is World Chocolate Day, after all.

It all started when The Husband went to Europe on business.  He took a side trip to Brussels, Belgium, and found the famous Manneken Pis fountain (yep, little boy peeing) on Rue de l’Etuve.  At that intersection are two Belgium chocolate shops across the street from each other: Neuhaus and Leonidas. Both shops have large chocolate imitations of the fountain’s little boy taking care of business (or having a contest with each other? *eyes roll*  I only mention it because you can see them in Google Street View.  LOL).

The Husband brought home a box of Neuhaus chocolates that we shared.  We split each piece and then savored the flavors–one piece per day.  After deciding that we liked the dark chocolates best, we ordered a box of them.  The Husband admitted that he tried the Leonidas chocolates, too.  They were delicious, but he neglected to bring some home.  Grr.

The Koko Black pocket poster..so you know what you’re eating.

Then he went to Melbourne, Australia, and brought home a box of Koko Black chocolates. While the Neuhas chocolates were flavors were the expected traditional pralines, nuts, and ganaches, Koko Black added spices (cinnamon, saffron, and chillies) and created unusual liquor pairings, including a caramel made with a Western Australian microbrewery stout. We savored the selection piece by piece, too.

When I went to Boston (hey, it’s still in the world) with a few of my friends, I saw a Max Brenner shop and restuarant.  There, I picked a box of dark chocolates to bring home to  continue our tradition.

Of the three, the Neuhaus chocolates are my favorites. Since then, I’ve discovered that they have a store and a cafe in not that far away from home.  Can’t wait to go!  Maybe I’ll go today for World Chocolate Day.  Yum.

Do you love chocolate as much as I do?  Would you travel the world or the Web for chocolate or another delicacy?  How will you celebrate World Chocolate Day?