Evening. Don't worry Bads, there's nothing to plumbing in a washing machine, it's just a question of screwing the right hose, if DrAthos has finished with Helen by then I'm sure he'll be able to point you at the right pipe.
Speaking of broken washers, mine has been shaking itself to bits in a rather energetically alarming way, the door is hanging off and I could have sworn it was having a fag amidst a pile of grubby sheets after the last spin cycle.
I'd forgotten Cormoran Strike spends the majority of all three books looking like 10 bells have been knocked out of him. Ffs it shouldn't be so damn sexy, but my brain immediately says phwoarr at the sight of all those wounds. So wrong