I just returned from next door, negotiating the outside step, the car (returned from the garage, yes), the snow, the front door and my leaping dogs. I took a washing to Cliff so that by the time the technician will show up on Friday, the washer will not be buried under a ton of dirty rags.
To think that my grandma used to do this weekly, but down to a river, while her own mum, bizarrely, had staff doing this and all other chores really is odd. Not being able to stick a washing in when I want to is one of the most annoying things that could ever happen to someone of my generation (together with, perhaps, a flat mobile battery or a lack of internet access). How times have changed and how quickly, too.