A whirlpool washer (No, not that kind).

Sam and I are so thankful to be in our home. We don’t have all the boxes unpacked yet but we are getting there!

Since we’re still settling in, we don’t have a washer or dryer yet. Boy howdy, once little one gets here it’ll be a necessity! 

Sam did a little scouting and found a good set on craigslist. We’ll go pick them up this weekend.

Until then, I am getting in touch with my homesteading instincts and washing my laundry by hand. Yes, this post is about washing my laundry by hand.

A terrible task? No! 

A tedious task? Perhaps..

A necessary task? Absolutely.

We have a wonderfully luxurious looking whirlpool jet tub in the master bath. See?




It is a wonderful bath, and I figured it would be perfect for washing my clothes.

I figured I should assemble basic clothes washing ingredients: A tub (check), water (check), laundry detergent (check), dirty clothes (check) and a clean unused plunger (happened to have about 5 on hand–CHECK!) 

Now, before you get all sorts of confused and weirded out, we had the plungers from a baby shower game we played a few months ago. There. It had to be said. We aren’t toilet mutants ’round these parts. Promise.

Okay! Now…where were we? Ah yes…Plungers and laundry soap.



I filled up the tub and started the jets. Ooooh so fancy! Bubbles exploded from every corner of the tub and I, in as glamorous of fashion as I could muster, dumped the dirty clothes into the tub. 

I wielded my plunger, ready for action.

In fact, I felt quite like Charlie Bucket’s mom, singing “Cheer up Charlie…no need to frown” while stirring laundry in big vats in a dark alley.

After running the whirlpool and plunging the clothes for a solid 15 minutes, I was ready to rinse! 

I rinsed all the clothes individually, wrung them out, and threw them in a basket bound for the clothes line. 


I sure do love clothes lines. I love the idea of them and their function. Being so simple and so effective, they are right up my alley. The lines were a bit ragged from the weather, but Sam cleaned them up and I started hanging the clothes on that tightrope. 

My clothes were like circus performers walking that tightrope. The crowd precariously watched, holding breaths in anticipation of the fall or the success. Only a sock or two were lost in the show.

I imagine clothes on a line won’t dry as quickly as they would in Colorado or Kansas. The humidity in the air seemed to counteract the basic idea behind hanging clothes on a line. Oh well. I wouldn’t be discouraged! My clothes would be hung and they would dry, darn it! 



Ah yes. I could almost smell the crisp and clean smell that accompanies outside drying. I love stuffing my face in a basket full of clean dry clothes.


I went outside to check on the clothes after about 6 hours. 

As I opened the door, I heard the unmistakable pitter patter of rain. My heart sunk.



My clothes were still wet.

My hope of having fresh and crisp dry clothes by this afternoon was crushed. 

Maybe tomorrow.

Ash sure likes the rain though…




There you have it–my tale of our whirlpool washer and the clothes that may forever stay wet.




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