I was writing about evil yesterday, truly I was. But then the new dishwasher arrived. And in the course of installing it, I became engaged in a life-or-death struggle with the dread spirit of Bucky, which lurks yet behind the walls of Peapod, lurching through the dark and hidden places, exercising its slurred incompetence wherever there is wiring or plumbing to be found. So great became my wrath that I took a hammer to the extra dryer in the basement that was kindly left "for us" by the previous owners, lo! did I smash the hell out of that thing. There was much shouting. Pieces flew far and wide, and many glorious dents were made. This was immensely satisfying because it, too, was a white appliance, and because it had some connection to the previous master of the house.
In the end, I triumphed: the day was mine. Even now, a load of sparkling dishes and cutlery awaits unloading, all spotlessly clean though no hand has touched them. A marvelous age we live in!
Plus, because some plumbing needed to be de-Buckied, I finally got to buy a blowtorch. Can't be all bad if you get a blowtorch out of the deal, right?
Now: on to tedium.
