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I Might Have Fixed My Own Dryer!

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I yearn to be a do-it-yourselfer around the homestead, but sometimes I give up in frustration, fuzzy-headedness, or just plain laziness and make the (usually expensive) call to the appliance service department. 
This morning, my three-year-old clothes dryer decided to go kaflooey. It has the electronic control panel, which continues to baffle me, as I have always been used to the old dial-type controls on appliances.
I loaded up the machine as I do every morning and pushed the “start” button. The dryer refused to start, and the little message center flashed a code “d r.”

Hmmmm … does this “d r” mean:

1. The dryer wants a DOCTOR?
2. The dryer DREADS heating up and spinning in 80-plus degree weather?
3. Something about a DOOR? (The door was opening and latching, just fine.)

First, I decided to be really wise and have some pecan shortbread cookies and iced tea. Never go into any project on an empty stomach—my lifelong motto.

Then I got out all the manuals that came with the dryer. Quickly, I laid aside the ones in French and Spanish. (And why am I even holding onto these; like I’m going to be handling Parisian permanent-press?) I read through about three pamphlets, and there were some numerical codes, but nothing about “d r.”

So, I go to the internet, to search for my dryer brand, model, and the mysterious “d r” coding.
After glancing at a few postings by thoroughly disgruntled customers who had the same dryer, it appeared that “d r” did have something to do with “door.”

Next, I put the phone book near the dryer, so it would know that I meant business, and WOULD call a repairman, if it continued to be ornery.

Then, I turned off the electric power to the dryer, by flipping a switch on the breaker box. (I’m not much of a DIY’er, but I do know to TURN OFF THE ELECTRICITY, before attempting amateur repairs.)
I then got the vacuum cleaner and vacuumed what looked like a LOT of lint that was clogging the little plastic grid of open plastic squares behind the lint screen (just inside the dryer’s door). I removed the vent hose from the back of the dryer, and vacuumed out the entire length of foil-covered tubing. 
I vacuumed the back of the dryer, itself. (I did NOT vacuum inside the storage drawer of the pedestal stand; another of my mottos is “Why go overboard?”)

Finally, I used the breaker switch to turn the power back on. Following instructions in the manual, I lightly punched each of the five or so buttons on the front of the dryer, to possibly “unstick” them. 

Then I hit the “start” button. And—lo and behold—it started and kept going.

I was so thrilled at saving $100—or more—with this DIY task that I immediately thought up some more laundry to do.

That little gray monster of a computerized dryer may be cranky again in the morning, and it surely knows that Memorial Day weekend is fast approaching, so no repairman will be available for a number of days. To be on the safe side, maybe I should start storing the phone book in the pedestal drawer. Nearby and threatening. 

(Note: I don’t know that I would advise anyone to follow my example, but I watched my dad fix things around the house for many years, and do know to follow precautions.)


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