O fridge, my fridge

When we bought our first home in Austin, we didn’t really know what we were getting into. Fortunately we had a very sweet realtor who walked us, baby steps, through the process and was very patient. Much to our surprise, we discovered that one of the hidden costs of buying a first home is buying a refrigerator. In fact there should have been several of these appliance related costs, but the previous owners abandoned their washer/dryer. The washer gave us a couple of years of good service, but we replaced it as soon as we moved to Dallas. Amazingly the dryer lasted a full ten years before being “updated” with another used hand-me-down dryer we picked up from our neighbors. But the refrigerator is special. I love our refrigerator. I think you can tell a lot about a person by their fridge. Are they sufficiently adapted to the modern world? Do they partake of all the modern conveniences, or are they simply sufficiently utilitarian? Is the fridge cluttered? Is it clean? Does it have enough space within? Is it appropriately decorated with the proper amount of photographs, magnetic poetry, shopping lists and assorted bric-a-brac? I would go so far as to wager that no other single household item can tell you as much about the occupants of the home as the fridge, not even the personal computer.

Ours is a freezer on the bottom variety refrigerator. A bottom freezer refrigerator puts the fresh food you need to access most often right where you need it -- at eye level. This is particularly true for those of us over six feet. The less frequently accessed freezer section is moved to the bottom of the unit. This seems perfectly natural as frozen foods are those foods that are meant to be stored for longer and are thus accessed less often. The decision to purchase a bottom freezer refrigerator really depends on how important it is to you to have fresh food in a more accessible, easily viewable area. (Again, the desire to eat fresh food, and to have it readily available tells you a lot about a person.)

A good refrigerator withstands the changing family dynamic and its use evolves over time. When we bought our fridge J. was still expecting, the fridge catered to the two of us, but today our little family grown, we buy in bulk, and we store excess frozen foods in the freezer more frequently. Our diet has changed somewhat, and while the children for the most part eat what we eat, they also eat more frozen, prepackaged foods. This is what a freezer is for, after all. Since he introduction of the home freezer in the 1940’s, frozen foods have made the transition from a luxury to a necessity, an integral part of our daily lives. The best part? Our freezer (the freezer on the bottom variety) once again shows its versatility in that adult foods are at adult levels, while children’s foods are at children levels. Though the two year old quickly discovered the means of obtaining and thereby forming a four Popsicle a day habit.

Sadly our refrigerator is beginning to show its age, and here is the thing. Once something is broken, is it ever the same? Now, the ice-maker broke. Parts were brought in, specialists were summoned, and as if by magic (and a hefty check) ice began to once again grace our freezer compartment. Next was the seal, or gasket. The thin, membrane-like lip of plastic that runs around the inner part of the freezer door that forms the hermetic seal between inner and outer. It began to bubble. It began to crack. Soon things were not as they should be. Cold air no longer flowed gracefully from bottom to top bringing freshness and crispness to leafy vegetables. Lettuce began to wilt prematurely and milk soured. Specialists were call and prices were quoted. We balked. We found the part online we enlisted the aid of a few well-intentioned websites that offered do-it-yourself tips and we repaired our freezer. Freshness was restored.

Then of course it failed again. Hands were wrung. Questions of competency and expense were raised and we tried again. Today everything seems to work, though there does seem to be a bit of excess moisture forming on the ceiling of the refrigerator. Suggesting that, despite our best intentions, we are going to have to eventually do something else.

I think my fridge has a lesson or two to teach me about aging gracefully. I’ve decided to adopt a wait and see attitude about my fridge. I don’t have any fear of its eventual success or failure. I suppose my love of my fridge allows me to embrace its flaws with loving acceptance. When something breaks, is it even the same? Nothing lasts forever. Everything eventually shows signs of age. But will those signs be the salt and pepper dusting of gray that begins to peek out between visits to the barber, or is it the annoying flatulence that seems to strike somewhere between midnight and two in the morning? Worse, is it the annoying back pain that signals a system failure deep from within? I suppose time will tell. J. says refrigerators aren’t supposed to last much more than ten or fifteen years and I shoot back a withering glance and whisper “not in front of the fridge.” For now I gently wipe the sweat of age and exertion from the brow of my dear refrigerator as I pour myself a glass of OJ.