The Lint Trap

We used to live in a big house with a teeny-tiny washer and dryer.

Now we live in a small house with an extra large washer and dryer.  Go figure.

Actually, I’m a bit excited about that.  For a couple of reasons. 

I can actually wash more than one sheet at a time.

I can add things, like an errant sock, at the last minute.

Can you feel my joy, my excitement?   Probably not.

Okay, so just hang on a sec.  Here’s the flag-raising, Ta-Da, stomp-your-feet, go crazy-wild thing.  It’s the lint.  Or more specifically, the lint trap.

I’ve always been a bit fanatic about cleaning the lint trap.  All the owner’s manuals tell you to be diligent about that and I’ve been compliant.  Perhaps compulsively so.   Part of that may come from my feeling that lint’s a little like a hair-ball without all that angst on the part of the cat.  It deserves immediate attention or things can go downhill fast.

Sadly, the lint trap in the old (little) dryer rarely contained anything worth writing home about.  Sometimes, out of kindness, I’d feed it a damp Kleenex or two so it could remember how it felt to be useful.

But now!

Now, fistfuls of lint are an every day occurrence!  I don’t know where all that filmy, feathery stuff comes from but it’s almost always a worthy collection.

Furthermore, my new dryer has a lint trap with two, count ’em, two compartments!  Will the joys never cease?

I don’t usually write about serious things but I take my lint management duties very seriously.  You just have to trust me on this.

Unusually satisfying lint pic thanks to