danger, Will Robinson, danger.

Washing machine is suspiciously silent all of a sudden.

Perhaps it feels overworked and underappreciated at moment since is on third load of Hobbit Clothes for the day. Funny men came to fix it this morning and had to replace blackened plug. They asked if I am Canadian... it was probably the "y'all" that gave me away. But am not exactly sure that this is the Little Washer Who Could... it is making screeching noises at the spin cycle and seems to be thrashing around a bit excessively. I mean, there is Reasonable Thrashing and then one is Over the Top.

Will go check on Deus ex Machina and make caffeinated beverage for self so as to keep up writing momentum. Up to 8.., NO, 913 words now. Based on agreement with Katharine and solidarity in almost making word limit, therefore will be happy if write 1,000 more words.

Reading this nonsense, one would think it a piece of cake, wouldn't one?