It was a hot and sweltry night. (Sorry, Snoopy, for corrupting the opening line to your novel.)
I looked forward to being at the farm for the weekend, a place where it’s not uncommon to have a surprise, or two, upon arrival.
This time the watering system wasn’t working in the rock garden. The deer had eaten all the wild blackberries and the birds had stripped the cherries from the tree.
What’s more, the A/C wasn’t working and the refrigerator barely cooling. The A/C was easily remedied with the reset of a breaker.
But the refrig had seen its last days.
We’ve Had Many a Happy Meal Together
I hated to see my old fridge go. I’ve had it for nearly 30 years. The painted door panels even matched my kitchen cabinets. The “icebox” (as we once called such things), had come through the house fire in 2001. After that, it stumbled along, but only with costly bouts of repair.
It was time.
Out with the Old; In with the New
Cleaning out the old fridge meant a serious assessment of all the condiments, that had crept into my life over the years.
As you know, such an invasion happens when we try a new recipe, that calls for a special ingredient. The leftover jar goes into the fridge, where it takes up permanent residence.
This includes ethnic sauces with unpronounceable names, fruit preserves and pickles from Christmas gift baskets, and dozens of varieties of BBQ sauces and mustards.
When a purge is required, it’s best done with as few people (opinions) as possible.
All’s Well That Ends Well
Despite the purchase-delivery-installation saga, the weekend was saved by a grand meal, that included grilled burgers, chicken shawarma on pita, corn-on-the-cob, kale salad, cukes and onions, and a caprese salad of Bobby’s home-grown tomatoes.
Weekend Sum Up
We had rain overnight.
My new refrigerator was delivered the next day.
And Lucy got me enough Campbell peaches for a cobbler.
We ate and laughed with family and friends.
Life is good.