Friday, November 02, 2007

Column: To freeze or not to freeze, that is the question

I wouldn’t want to give the wrong impression. Hubby and I don’t have week after week full of trials and tribulations. This is where I should add that it just seems that way.

Not long ago, fellow columnist Diane went through the Refrigerator Blues and now it’s our turn. You know how it is when you reach in and notice that the can of soda isn’t quite as cold as it used to be. But I have to admit, we had some warning.

It started several weeks ago when I noticed puddles of water on the kitchen floor. My cynical mind focused on Sarah the pup, who, it turns out, is as innocent as the day is long. Besides, the puddle did appear to be plain old water.

We didn’t connect the occasional problem with our fridge because the two were physically far apart from one another. Yes, we know that water runs downhill, but who figures they have hills in their kitchen?

A couple of weeks ago we noticed more water and problems with the ice cubes. We’d put in a bag of ice, and within a day or two it would harden into a giant chunk that needed to be chipped. Apparently it was melting, leaking out onto the floor, puddling under the kitchen table, then the freezer would miraculously begin working again.

Well, we’re into serious business now. It seemed like a good idea to pull out the ol’ side-by-side and peer into its innards. No can do, because there’s a metal plate that covers the whole thing. We settled for using my rarely-used vacuum cleaner on any openings, pushed the fridge back and waited for the healing to begin.

Nuts. That didn’t work, as we found out the next morning as we slid through the welcoming puddle on our way to the coffee pot. Time for a more drastic measure.

I dug out the owner’s manual from deep inside the bowels of an old filing cabinet and found out the fridge is past its tenth birthday. Oh, and the warranty ran out seven years ago.

So, out came the air compressor with its handy-dandy attachment for blowing dust out of refrigerator coils at the speed of light. Of course we couldn’t see light, each other or much of anything else when hubby got done because of the severe indoor smog. We had years-old dust and gunk in our hair, on the cupboards, in the dog dishes and up our noses.

Surely after all of that effort and sacrifice we could count on a revitalized fridge. Once again, we were sadly mistaken.

Then, the weather forecaster helped us out. The temps were to dip, so that made our front porch a temporary shelter for milk, leftover meatloaf, and even pop if we’d had any left. Apparently, in our frustration over the possibility of having to purchase a major appliance, we’d been hitting the soda pretty hard and now we were out. If we bought more, we had no ice to put in it, so it’s a good thing it was time for bed.

Hubby hauled the milk onto the porch, and since the bottom part of both the fridge and the freezer were decently cold, we moved other foods south. We left a glass of water inside the freezer on the middle shelf, and another on the bottom.

We skirted the small puddle the next morning and opened the freezer. The water in the middle was cold, but still water, and the glass on the bottom was frozen. Interesting.

It was Sunday, and we found an auction that listed just about everything you can imagine, but no fridge. We knew we should wait and see what the repair technician would tell us on Monday, and we knew that would cost $50, yet there was a possibility it wouldn’t cost all that much to fix what we already owned. We’re the impatient types, so off we went to the auction, and true to their word, there was no fridge. We headed home to eat up leftovers and worry what the next day would bring.

Guess what? Monday morning brought good news. The fridge seemed to be recouping its losses, and we were thrilled. Still, we kept the borrowed dorm fridge – just in case. And I canceled the service call, since the future looked rosy.

Tuesday morning there was still no puddle, but now the middle glass of ice was floating in a bit of water.

I’m not positive, but I think our refrigerator is of the female persuasion. She keeps changing her mind, and messing with ours. Now I wonder if I should change mine and call the repairman.
Maybe I won’t need to worry about it. In a week or so, I can roll the whole shebang onto the front porch and use the free frigid air we’re supposed to get.

Cool.

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