The refrigerator repairman is moving in! NOW!

He’s here. He’s working on my fridge this very minute… AGAIN! And not one minute too soon.

It broke again last week because he didn’t replace a part that should have been replaced last time he was here. It’s been six days. When I poured milk into my hot tea this morning, it came out in lumps. It had four days left on the expiration date. The refrigerator side became compromised because the freezer wasn’t working. Everything is packed in ice now.

I will have to toss some food. I hate to waste food! It’s the way we were raised. Wasting food is right up there with leaving the lights on or the tap running. My father let you know about it if you even kept the refrigerator door open too long. He wanted you to figure out what you wanted to eat before you opened that door. No standing and leaning and looking and trying to figure out what you wanted. He was really big on keeping showers short and even coasting up to stop lights to save gas. The man was conserving energy, water, food and gas long before it became politically correct.

So, I will cook what I think is safe, save what I think is safe and toss the rest. It’s a heartbreaker. I should have gotten everything out earlier and given it to the neighbors, but I didn’t realize in time.

I’m going to offer him the guest room.