The one titled 'Non-perishable.'

The puddle on my kitchen floor kept growing and growing.

The kids thought Christmas came early to the back of our freezer. “Snow. It’s snow.” Jax said.

Five bath towels and two days later the glacier in my freezer is gone.

I’m hoping for a week of worry-free cooling bliss. A week where I don’t have to use frozen pureed tomatoes to keep my goat’s milk cold. A week where I don’t have to take the temperature of my food like it was a sick child, hoping it’s internal temperature is just right.
The repairman will be coming in a week for his 4th visit. We’re getting quite well acquainted at this point.

A month ago I noticed my normally icy cold milk was a bit tepid. Mmmm? I opened the freezer. Bags of hamburger were squishy and crunchy with melting shards of ice.
 

Hold on. (I’m baking sweet potato oatmeal chocolate chip cookies; the secret is not the potato but the duck eggs. Cookies...no refrigeration required. Good for emergency fridge breakdowns. We’re having cookies for dinner. Don’t judge me.)

Ok back to the great thaw.

I called Sears.  I was sweet as honey on the phone. Honey is the best way to get what you want if you are a woman and you live in the south. I’m not being sexist, just a practical housewife with a fridge on the fritz. They said the repairman only came ‘up my way’ once a week. Thursday.

Fine. Fine.

He comes. “You need a new thermostat.” He says.

“Ok, I say. How much?”

“$258.98” He says.

Gulp. “Ok.” My hand shook a little as I was writing out the check.

“I don’t have the part with me. I’ll be back next Thursday.” He said.

Thursday.

I can survive until Thursday. Cinnamon rolls and candy caramels. All nonperishable. I will survive.

The part was installed. The milk was still tepid. There’s nothing less appetizing than tepid milk. Even sweet goat’s milk, not so tasty at room temperature. We had fries for dinner. The kids thought they’d won the lottery.

I called. “He’ll be back out on Thursday, ma’m. I’m sorry ma’m.” Sears said.

Thursday.

“It’ll be $123 to fix the automatic defrost. The other technician should have noticed this glacier here. If you defrost it, it may work for a few days.”

“I have to pay again even though the first guy didn’t fix it?”

“I don’t know you’ll have to call.”

15 calls, 3 hours, and 5 days later.  (I repeated my name address and phone number over and over and over again. Each time I got put on hold, or transferred, or told I would be called. I wasn’t called. I had to call and call and call.)

“Oh, that’s right you don’t have to pay since it’s been less than 90 days since the first repair.”

“Why didn’t they tell me that the first time I called!!!!” I asked. (I ran out of honey after the 11th call.)

“… “

Sigh. “So I guess the technician will come out an fix it.” I said.

“The technician will be there next Thursday.” Sears said.

Thursday.

I think homemade cinnamon raisin bagels are on the menu for tomorrow night. Don’t judge me. They’re non-perishable.

(Wyatt with chocolate on his lip from tonight's cookies. The photo is blurry, but it will last forever. It's non-perishable.)

Visit Fruit of the Carolyn for more tales of goats, children, duck eggs, cookies, autism, a pesky raven, my love affair with my husband, and the magic of every day. I promise to make a mistake in every post and I promise that poo will be mentioned frequently.