IT was a weekend of humidity and the smell of damp towels in our house. My tumble dryer has broken. I’m distraught.
I know tumble dryers are the work of the devil as far as carbon footprints go. I know they use the energy of a small country and triple your electricity bills. But selfishly, I can’t handle the onslaught of washing without it.
The elder boys reminded me that we didn’t have a dryer when they were small, and they remembered damp washing hanging on all the radiators, going crispy. But that was when there were only four of us. Now there are six, and four of us are big. I’ve run out of radiator space with the first load. The rotary falls over with the weight. I need my dryer. I’ll plant a tree every year if I can have it working again. Pleeease!