A couple of weeks ago, our dryer stopped drying things. I'm generally pretty lenient towards the appliances--I don't expect the refrigerator to tell me when the sour cream has gone bad, I don't blame the washer for failing to warn me that I need to remove felt tip markers from pockets before starting a load of laundry, and I don't expect the toaster oven to scrape the burned cheese off of its little heating element. But I can't get behind a clothes dryer that doesn't actually dry clothes, so we had an appliance repair dude come to the house, and he installed a new motor. The dryer dries again. However, it's now much noisier than it was before. It's not an altogether unpleasant noise. It's a very steady triplet/dotted-quarter/sixteenth/dotted-quarter/sixteenth rhythm. It's like I have a troupe of Irish step dancers in my basement.
Mr. Banality was in the City of Brotherly Love this weekend for a professional conference. When he's out of town, I realize that the house makes all kinds of noises that I don't usually notice. The hot water heater mumbles, and the refrigerator whimpers like a puppy (maybe it is trying to tell me something about the sour cream after all).
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