Where’s the Ice?
You’ve heard some of my complaints about the trials of living in an old house. True to form, lightning struck again yesterday, and this time it wasn’t because of anything old. I think. It’s a strong ‘maybe’.
When I say lightning, that’s pretty accurate, or so we came to understand after the fact. I have to give Di all the credit for rescuing this situation because someone else who lives here with us of course was stuck in the office. He will remain nameless. Anyway, yesterday at lunch I noticed there was no ice in the icemaker bucket. The machine that does that was turned on, tucked in the freezer corner like a little white, mechanical gnome. The Ice Gnome was making no ice. Then I noticed the air coming out of the freezer was pretty warm.
We tried to rescue the refrigerator, but it wasn’t cooling. Of course, we’ve thrown away a lot of food. My mulch pile is happy right now. Di swung into action and cooked every hunk of meat that wasn’t suspicious. She cleaned out the ‘fridge, sopping up the spinach juice and meat juice. Tossing the limp, warm vegetables, she called housing (who is supposed to take care of these things). She even took pictures of all the ruined crap to file a claim later. This is pretty much why I’m lucky because without her I would have arrived home hours later to the putrid stench of bad meat and a puddle decomposition under the ‘fridge.
A few hours later, the housing maintenance guy replaced a burnt out circuit board in the back of the refrigerator. This is my real concern because it is pretty much new. I suspect there’s a bad electrical wiring issue at the heart of this matter – this is not the first device to shit itself to death in that area of the house. I’ve asked housing to install GFCI outlets, but apparently that falls somewhere in the difficulty realm between changing the laws of physics and relocating the Himalayas fifteen inches to the left.
I’ve got two crock pots going right now. I think I’ll have a glass of ice water.