There is a law governing major appliances that we spend most of our lives trying to deny and the rest of our lives wondering how we could have been so blind.

Just when you think you’ve weathered the storm, watch out for the tornado.

In other words, no one should be amazed to learn my washing machine broke. After all, it’s the newest of all my appliances – and the most vital. It’s also the one piece of equipment that I’ve conscientiously babied. I committed the owner’s manual to memory. I did not overload or overtax it. I followed the instructions with the fire of a zealot and monitored like a hawk when my offspring used it.

At first, it began to sound a little tired. Its spin cycle was a bit louder. If washing machine makers publicized the warning signs of washer meltdown as widely as the harbingers of diseases, I might have recognized that for what it was – the beginning of the end.

I decreased the load size and switched to washing more items on the gentle cycle.

Then, one day, I opened the washer to transfer the items to the dryer and discovered the agitator no longer had the strength to spin. We went through the dance of having the man of the house try to fix it. He did not succeed.

Unlike calling an ambulance, calling a repair man means waiting. So we waited. My schedule didn’t allow for spending hours in the laundromat, so I made new rules. I would only wash what would be worn the next day, and those items had to be given to me early in the evening. The kitchen sink became my laundry room. My hands hurt as they never have before from the scrubbing and wringing.

To make a long story short, the repair man came, diagnosed the problem and ordered the part which has arrived. Tonight I will have a working washer. And I will be washing for the next month playing catch-up with all the items I’ve missed.

This is where the storm rule comes into play. Normally at this time, I’d be wondering what’s going to break next. I got my answer a bit early this go-round. It was my computer.

Unlike the washing machine, which needed a new transmission, this repair involves something I don’t understand. I just know that somewhere in my husband’s interpretation of the geek’s explanation I heard the words “mother board.” To me, that’s the end.

The nice thing is, I’m not alone. A co-worker told me of replacing an aging dryer only to have the washing machine break. A friend once had her furnace, oven and car break on the same day.

Unlike the younger version of myself, I have spent very little time pondering the huge unfairness of a broken washing machine. I don’t even really obsess over what’s going to break next. I figure as long as it’s not one of my bones, I’m doing okay.

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Terry Murry can be reached at tmurry@eastoregonian.com or at 966-0810, unless the next thing that breaks involves the telephone company.