Ice Box Blues

It's been hot in Southern California. Early hot. June Gloom didn't really pan out and this year we had Gray May instead, but back when it was cool and damp my refrigerator was working just fine. Of course I looked at it daily, as I have since I moved in, and quietly thought "You ugly little thing. What in God's name were the previous owners thinking when they had their entire new kitchen designed and built around an old, substandard refrigerator." But I didn't really think it in a cruel way...uh huh. The insane, early heat proved to be too big a challenge for our fridge and I accepted its demise when my granddaughter asked for an ice cream cone last week and as I was getting the Cherry Garcia out of the freezer, inadvertently squeezed it too hard (uh oh, my brain registered, the ice cream's soft), the top popped off and the delicious goo landed all over a little Navajo rug I keep next to the fridge. (That rug has saved many a glass container from shattering when I'm moving in my typically careless way so stop thinking ew, she has a rug in her kitchen). Charlotte looked at the goo on the rug, looked back at me and we carried the rug outside and hosed it down. Relax, the rug is not an antique, but it is one of those Canyon Road specials that look good and are priced high in Santa Fe. I've discovered you can throw it in the washing machine or hose it down. It doesn't care. I like that in a rug.

So yesterday, oh boy oh boy, I was excited. I ran around the house doing a little happy dance every time I thought about the brand new refrigerator that was on its way to our house. When we moved in four years ago, our kitchen (all except for this old white Amana fridge) impressed us with its clean architectural lines and fabulous storage and the hinges on the cupboards. Oh the sophistication of the hinges. Then there were the two Viking ranges. TWO! One big ole industrial gas stove and then another whole electric/convection oven under the counter, because turkeys roast much better and cakes rise much more prettily with convection, I guess. And the Swedish dishwasher...so quiet and efficient and a light that pops on so you can conveniently see the far corners when loading.

And then there was the fridge. Oh well, I would think, when it dies, we'll replace it. We are actively trying to replace it. We've actually charged two refrigerators to our American Express card this week and one was delivered today. It made it up the stairs from the driveway and into our house. They'd tried to deliver it yesterday but their truck was too big to get up our street, much less our driveway. Before you think I'm a complete nimrod, be assured that this was discussed pre-delivery.

All was forgiven, though, as I watched our fridge slowly being hauled up the stairs to our home. It had French doors! How cute is that? I love French doors...anywhere. My excitement started dimming, though, when it took my husband and both delivery guys five minutes to shimmy and wiggle the existing dead fridge out of its niche. We had measured and measured and talked ad nauseum with Joe O (our sales guy...his surname is O, really, how cool is that?) to determine that this fridge would exactly fit. It would fit, Joe assured us multiple times as he swiped our Amex.

So finally the painful extraction was achieved. My excitement was dimming, though, as the senior delivery guy assured me that our new fridge, sitting sweetly out on the patio, would not fit. No point in trying. See this lip hanging from the top cupboard he intoned in a hushed voice. That's not your problem. This is your problem, he said dramatically, thumping the inside walls of the cupboards either side of the fridge space. Won't fit. It wouldn't effing fit by 1/16th of an inch. And then, ultimate injury. The guy wasn't sure if the old fridge would fit back into the space because well he just wasn't sure and then we thought, why put it back if we're going to get a replacement in a few days. So now...look where it sits. Handy, huh?

So, did I mention we're having a big party in a couple of weeks and that the people over at the Pacific Design Center who put this kitchen together will hopefully have a team of crack carpenters here before then to cut and move some cabinetry about because as things stand, we have a big hole in the kitchen and a fridge just kind of sitting almost in front of a window and in the way of a door and, get this, it is just barely working at this point. Every day we have to buy four bags of ice and put three in the fridge part and one in the freezer part just to keep stuff chilled. It's like a giant, ugly cooler. A true ice box.

Sometimes you just wish the iceman still would cometh.