My dryer was filled with dryer lint. Today I explored the dark interiors of my clothes dryer. About three weeks ago, just before the grand baby made her appearance, the dryer let out a squall like a hell-spawn beast. Scared the dogs. It hasn't made that noise again, but it has continued to make a rhythmic clacking sound that I think is in sync with the rotation of the dryer drum.
As I know nothing about the anatomy of a dryer, it is as good an assessment as any other. Better than most. And so, just as I was beginning to have a productive day, I was sidetracked by this friendly repairman (obviously being paid by the hour) who sadly let me know that the blanket of dryer lint on the bottom of my dryer was a fire hazard. No doubt he was right. But how would anyone know it was there?
As gray as that elephant up there. About two inches think. Fluffy. And there was a dime and a penny and a toothpick. And every other surface inside the dryer had a layer of lint. When it was all over, the repairman's cap also was linty.
A vacuum cleaner works wonders, and this is a particularly satisfying kind of cleaning because it requires no scrubbing. Just sucking and instant results. The experience was only marred by this repairman muttering again and again..."fire hazard..." Yeah, I know.
Now to the heart of the problem. My rollers are not rolling properly. And they were linty. Sad, that. I suppose I could have predicted that my rollers were no longer what they might be, what they were when the dryer was new.
My friends of a more ecological bent will say something about missing the days when sheets were hung outside on the line to dry. Might I point out...always by the woman of the house. Always a tedious job, the slapping in your face by the wet laundry. Shut up with the nostalgia. I do not miss sun-dried sheets. I always thought they smelled funny, and I still do.
My new best friend, the linty repairman, will be back next week with new rollers for my drum. I am relieved.
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