basement

When not watering your plants is a blessing

Posted on by bangscrafts

Just a routine day in my life.  Stacks of pancakes and partaking in my family using up at least a whole quart of maple syrup to ourselves.  Getting a new phone that may end up making the whole talking to myself even a bit more dangerous.  Receiving a gift from my father from the comic-con he visited the day prior.  Listening to “Slow Ride” too loud while freeway driving with the windows down on the way home.  Deciding to hang said comic-con picture in a MacGyver-like fashion, which meant going into the basement to find some wire.

Going into the basement isn’t always the most convenient thing to do, since I have to go outside and then back in again to get there.  In most cases I try to do it when I’m just home and still wearing my shoes.  It is winter still, anyways.  Today’s unseasonable weather influenced my going down there in some floral PJ shorts and a light pull over sweatshirt with flip-flops.  I had opened all the windows in my living room/kitchen, and it was feeling nice and breezy in my apartment, so warm weather clothes were what was comfy.

I find the wire in seconds, because I have a strategically drawered system of organizing my wires, glues, tapes, tools, gadgets, and miscellany.  Grabbing the wire, not pocketing because I don’t have them currently, as to the reason why my phone wasn’t with me, and started my long trek back through the catacombs of my basement.

Opening the green door, a synch (since the WD-40 was applied to it)!  So getting to my door predicted the same experience.  But no, the bottom lock, the doorknob lock, won’t turn.  I think it hits me as a slight inconvenience at first, because I assume I’ll be able to wiggle it to open.  After a few tries I start to sort of freak out.  After a few minutes, I’m stressed out completely.  I leave the entrance way and exit the building, because I think, “well I have my car keys!” so I get in and once the engine is on, I realize what is it that I’m going to do from here?

Thinking that the door would fix itself with some time and space, learning it did not was a bit of a blow.  When I was outside I had surveyed my windows, realizing for the first time that if I jumped out of my kitchen window for one reason or another, it’d be a lot longer of a drop and a concrete landing more than I had been expecting.

There are alleyways that flank this building, and the one is a wide causeway for dogs and getting your mail by not walking all the way around the block.  The other (the one that my windows look out onto) is blocked off by what look like fence doors, that are nailed to posts keeping that line of dead plants and air units completely closed off.

I grabbed the one slightly loose board, threw my weight back, and pried the nails out of the wood.  I then pulled the frame back, making as much as a 7 inch opening with a lot of effort.  There were sticks, logs, prickers, mud, and a bed and breakfast next store to possibly witness everything I do.

There is an AC unit just to the right of my second living room window, and so I scramble and stomp my way through dead branches of plants until I am climbing on top of the thing.  I use my keys (now attached to my bra strap because of the pocket lacking situation) to jiggle up the screen, and push up the slightly ajar window.

I am a cactus person.  I’ve at most had 7 at once.   They are all kept on my windowsills, for sunlight reasons.  Once the window was open, gently as I could,  I knocked them all the the floor.  The sound of cute antique planters filled with dirt crashing to the ground is certainly a depressing one.

I am at an angle and about two feet lower than this window.  The closest thing to me is a gray box, concealing important modules, I’m certain.  Next is a small pewter pipe that is wrapped in black foam insulation.  Next are two PVC pipes, jutting out further than their predecessors.  Taking one foot, I judge the strength of each of them, having a very unique Goldilocks experience.

The last PVC pipe is the strongest, and with one bounce I hoist myself up using all the arm strength I  could muster into the tiny opening of my window, still moving things out of the way, and trying not to break the new chair I have sitting right beneath the windowsill as I dive into my apartment.

Once I am sitting on the ground surveying the mess I had made, panting to catch my breath, I look up at my front doorknob, and flick it off.

dirt.jpg

Also, The Martian was watched shortly after this craziness.

Non-vilification

Posted on by bangscrafts

So remember when I valiantly kept the washer from falling off its pallet?  Guess that wasn’t so dire after all.  And apparently the regular state of our basement.

washer

I must just try harder than all my apartment-mates.  Oh well.  What can I say?

Runaway washing machine

Posted on by bangscrafts

I’ve had a pretty eventful morning for a quite Saturday.  I was able to read about 20 pages of my book before getting out of bed.  I made a quick grocery store run before the parking lot was mobbed.  I even ran to the bank to get deposit a check and get a roll of quarters so I could go back to my apartment to do laundry.

Upon return, I made myself breakfast and hard boiled eggs for the week, subsequently setting off the fire alarm for now a second time while living here.  That was mildly inconvenient, mostly due to it’s unnecessarily shrill note, and that I started fanning the wrong detector before realizing my mistake.

Finally I got around to sorting some laundry, deciding I would get to towels first.  I went into the basement where the apartment’s two washers and two dryers are kept, and I threw in my towels to return upstairs and eat my breakfast.  After eating and sorting another set of laundry, clothes this time, I ventured back down to the basement.

To get to the basement, I have to go outside and then down into a separate door.  Right inside the door is one of those timer switches that you turn and the light goes on, but it sort of clicks the entire time since it’s counting down from wherever you set the thing to.  I usually just turn it just about halfway, since I’m never down there very long.

As soon as I had entered and turned the light on, I was immediately aware that the washing machine was on a rocket mode, and desperately trying to free itself from its hookups and the wall.  I ran inside and threw my laundry basket down, now realizing the machine was dangling off of the pallet platform it sits on.  After sort of just staring at it in disbelief for how fast and loud it is, I try pushing will all my might against the front of the thing, to no avail.  The only victory with doing that was that pressing my body against it muffled the ungodly loudness of the thing.

Briefly it started slowing down, and the light reading “Last spin and tumble” lit up on the display.  Mind you, these are bare bones machines we have down there.  There are options for water temperature and normal/delicate settings, and there’s an Start button.  The doors lock after you insert your quarters and press start, so there are few options other than waiting for your laundry to be done.

The spin starts going haywire again, and it’s trying to run away once again.  I get on the side that’s really dangling off the platform, and I press against the back of it with my right hand and keep my left at the front, and I shove as hard as I can.  This gets it at least back on the platform, but precariously since it is moving forward with every cycle.  I get on the other side and do the same thing, rotating back and forth until it’s as far back as it can go.  At this point I was hoping it’d slow down again since that light had turned on, but it had no indication of slowing down or staying up.

I took a look behind me at the door, paranoid someone was going to come in and see the weird new tenant hugging the washing machine.  Concerned that the person who lives above this part of the basement would hear the racket, I pressed all my weight on it, again muffling the sound.  Minutes went by in this style, me looking over my shoulder at the door every so often, and ultimately even yelling for the damn thing to stop (which I could barely hear over the grumble and swish).

What must have been five minutes went by and my bones felt entirely rearranged in my body by the time the spinning turned into a low pulse.  I leaned down and looked into the front window and watched in relief as it flipped my towels over a few more times and came to a halt.  I started clapping my hands in glee, and then it started spinning again in the opposite direction.  I slammed my palms on the window and nearly yelled again, in what would have been a very dramatic reaction, but thankfully it came to a full stop.

I stood up, shaky from feeling like I’m a Christmas tree in those shakers to remove the dead needles, and opening the door hauled my laundry out of there as fast as I could.  Although then I filled it up again with clothes, but I’m hoping since those won’t be as heavy the machine will feel comfortable staying put for this load.

We’ll see when I go and check on the dryer….