No, this is not the next installment in the tale of our Hawaiian vacation, although it will help explain why that wasn't published yesterday.
Our refrigerator was well over 10 years old. It was bought used in 2001, and I have no idea of its history. It wasn’t in very great shape then, though somehow it worked quite well for us. For years Porter would periodically grumble that it was an energy hog, reminding me that it couldn’t last forever, and wouldn’t it be better not to have to replace it on an emergency basis?
During the Memorial Day Weekend sales, we finally took the plunge.
Actually, we had tried to do so once before, several years ago, picking out an exciting model with French doors, a bottom freezer, water filter, ice maker, and other attractive features. The feature we didn’t expect was its inability to fit through the largest door in our house. Since when did they start making appliances that don’t fit through standard-sized doors? Crushed, we put off the purchase for another few years, although we did indulge in occasional peeks at what was available when we happened to be in a store that sold appliances.
Porter, as usual, was the one who made it happen. He researched the models, and narrowed the possibilities down to a handful. Then together we made the final decision: a rather ordinary, Energy Star-compliant, General Electric refrigerator with a capacity of 21 cubic feet. I’m happy with ordinary! It’s about the same size as the one it replaced, and not as large as the refrigerator we had when the kids were living at home, but it certainly ought to do well for the two of us. Complaints about size won’t go over well here, anyway, as Janet is sure to point out that it’s 5 to 7 times larger than the refrigerators she’s had in her last three homes.
Click this link to see what it looks like. No, we didn’t pay the MSRP, but got a much better deal at Lowe’s.
On Monday, Lowe’s called to say that the refrigerator was in, and we arranged for delivery Tuesday between noon and 5 p.m. Our neighbor came over and helped Porter move the existing fridge into the garage, where we had planned to keep it until July, when our church would take it for their rummage sale. After all, it still worked, and really was a fine fridge, even if you did have to kick the door to make it close properly. That quick kick was so much a habit that I often had to explain at other people’s homes why I was abusing their appliances.
All went well, until Porter went out the next morning to get his breakfast drink. There was a small puddle of water underneath the fridge. At some point during the night, the compressor had stopped working, and melting ice was dripping from the freezer. (Glad I was that I had transferred most of the contents of the freezer to our chest freezer, to lighten the fridge for the move.) The refrigerator compartment was still cool enough that I felt comfortable that the food was safe, so I filled it with jugs of ice, as if it were a giant picnic cooler. You don’t have half a dozen frozen jugs of water available at a moment’s notice? Then either you don’t have a handy chest freezer, or you don’t care that June 1 marks the beginning of hurricane season.
At about 8 a.m. the next day, the delivery men called: Could they deliver the refrigerator in about half an hour? The thought of grumbling, “What part of ‘between noon and five’ didn’t you understand?” was immediately quashed by the pleasant thought of having a working refrigerator sooner rather than later.
It was sad to see the old refrigerator taken unceremoniously off for recycling, but if it was going to break, I’m glad it did so before sending it to the rummage sale, and not after. Perhaps its time had just come, and Porter was better than he knew to insist on getting a new one now. Perhaps the move, short and gentle as it was, merely jarred something loose. Whatever the cause, we decided it wasn’t worth attempting a repair, given its age and condition.
Many mammal mothers lick their newborns clean after birth. I’ve never done that myself, but the instinct must be there: I can’t use a new appliance until I’ve cleaned it inside and out. With one thing and another, it took me the rest of the day to get the refrigerator “on board.” Porter would have cleaned the outside and the ice cube bin and had the food back in in under half an hour.
We’re still working on the best way to use the space. I love all the extra room in the door shelves—they can hold gallon milk jugs!—and don’t mind that the main shelves are consequently shorter, since it’s hard to get at things in the back of the fridge, anyway. But some reconsideration of our old habits of arrangement is in order. But that will be a joyful chore, rather than an urgent one.
And guess what? We’re heading into summer with an ice maker!
