For the Wealth Of a Nail

If my coworkers wonder why I come in looking like what the cat dragged in, here's an example.


The washer would not drain last Sunday. Reading the owner's manual, I learned that the solution was to open the drain on the bottom, let the water go out (it's near the sump, no biggie) and clear whatever was in the little filter there.

I did not find anything so after several attempts at that I gave up for the day. Last night, I opened the back and checked all drain hoses and returned them. Still no good. I made dinner and thought about it awhile.

This morning I got the courage to pull the pump and drain/filter piece out, pull the pump out and inspect the impeller. Lo and behold, a small finish nail had jammed the impeller. I removed it, jury-rigged a power source to the pump, checked that it still worked, and it's almost all back in. All before 6:45 a.m. (I also made three gallons of iced tea, washed the dishes, fed the animals, and made a hot tea for Jennifer, if I may brag.)

By tonight it should be operable again.

It reminds me of the story "For the Want Of a Nail," except this time I had one and it was all the woe.

Time washer was inoperable: three days.
Time spent working on washer: two hours, cumulative.
Money saved: probably about $200 or more.
The joy of rolling around a wet basement floor this morning & the satisfaction of knowing I did it myself: yeah, that.