We've had a rather frustrating week here on the farm.
First, I blew up the Dyson while vacuuming the shed.
I now have to buy another vacuum cleaner to use in the short term until we move into The Money Pit, because I won't be allowed to use it on the polished timber floors in case I scratch them, forcing The Hubbster to divorce me.
Then this happened to our broom. I don't understand why every single broom we buy gets broken in half. Just look at it?
How am I supposed to sweep the kitchen floor without breaking my back? I'm not 3 foot tall (unlike the rascal who broke it).
The kids use my broom for limbo, for cricket, for jumping over, for martial arts type fighting and for hitting each other. Pity they wouldn't use it for sweeping.
I swear I'll be buying a new broom with an unbreakable wooden handle and hiding it from the kids.
And now the washing machine is annoying me. It seems the quality of washing is relative to how it wakes up in the morning.
Somedays it feels like spinning, while other days it doesn't particularly want to drain.
Maybe I should bribe it with some chocolate or beer.
It probably knows that it will be replaced when we move into the house.
I hope the refridgerator doesn't read my blog!