It’s not a nightmare I would wish on anyone.

Carol called with the news that the clothes washer had stopped after completing the wash cycle. It just died. She had moved the dial to the rinse and spin. Nothing. She rotated the dial between the different cycles. Still nothing.

It was plugged in. We had power. That wasn’t the problem. Maybe there was something wrong with the timer; maybe the motor had died; maybe the washer was dead. Whatever the cause, I knew I was going to have to get all that water out of the machine.

Of course, the clothes would have to come out first. They would need to be rinsed and wringed out before drying. But what about all that water? It would have to go somewhere before a service man could move the unit and assess the problem.

I thought of the possibilities. I could bail it out or I could use the boat hand pump and fill the five-gallon bucket. I wasn’t looking forward to either alternative when I got home and stared into the dark pool of soapy water. Just to be sure, I played around with the dial. The machine was unresponsive.

It was time to call for help.

Carol went online and found the number for Sears service. We have a Kenmore washer, but the service contract has long since expired. Carol arranged for a service call in a couple of days and I was left to ruminate over draining the machine of so much water.

Then came the surprise. Carol slammed the cover and suddenly there was the hum of the pump.

“Don’t open it,” Carol said, but I had to see what was happening.

As it is supposed to, the machine stopped as soon as I opened the cover. I expected that. I lowered the cover gently, but nothing happened. It was lifeless again. I was faced with all that water and a pile of wet clothes. I gave the lid a bang. That didn’t help. Finally, I lifted the lid to examine the plastic pin designed to trigger a hidden switch within the mouth of the machine. I felt something about the size of a domino affixed to the underside of the steel lip of the housing. I couldn’t see it and the opening was just big enough for my fingers.

“Be careful,” warned Carol, “don’t get shocked.”

She had a good point, but I figured since I’d turned the washer off, I was safe. I felt the switch to discover it had a plastic tongue. This had to be what the pin hit when the lid was closed and activated the rinse and spin cycles. I felt confident enough to turn the washer on and trip the switch with my finger. There was no tingling sensation or bolt of electricity.

It came to life. We were delighted.

But then, what was I to do – stand there with my finger on a hidden switch while the world spun away? With some tape and a piece of plastic, I extended the pin a half inch and closed the lid. It worked. I was free to have dinner.

Fixed? Not really, as we discovered on the weekend. The washer stopped again and this time nothing happened when I played around with the switch.

I figured it was time to pull out the switch, look online and see if I could order a new one. I unscrewed the two screws holding it in place and felt something fall into my hand. It was a piece of the plastic housing to the switch. With some stretching of wires, the switch was exposed. It looked simple enough to replace, but before yanking it free, I pressed the lever while pinching the housing together. It worked.

Now the solution seemed simple enough – Gorilla Glue and a clamp. I gave it overnight to cure and presto, the washer was back in business Sunday morning.

It was a small triumph, but you can use every one you get.