The new fridge arrived at 8.30 Friday morning. A huge white delivery van with two men in it pulled up at the gate. Hubbie hastily dragged the old fridge out to the front lawn. I stood at the gate in my dressing gown and happily clapped their arrival. The driver noticed and mimicked me back.
The delivery man, who introduced himself as Bud, carefully eased out the fridge from the back of the van and rolled it up the driveway into the house. It was enormous. Bud commented that black was a mad colour for a fridge and then with a nod to me, said, "I suppose you'll be wanting a new kitchen now to match it. " He told us to leave it stand for a couple of hours to let the gas inside settle, that the freezer would then take another while to get going and with a wink, he added. "So, don't be running off to Aldi just yet." I laughed a little too loudly: it was so wonderful to interact with strangers again.
He then said to Hubbie, "I won't ask you to sign for it because of Covid-19 but if you would just send a text to the mobile number on the email to confirm delivery that would be grand." Job done, he went to leave but then turned back and asked, "Do you want me to take the old one away for you?" This was incredibly decent of him: with Covid-19, he's only supposed to drop and run.
Hubbie told him that would be great and then whispered to me, "Quick, do you have any cash?" It's been so long since I used actual money, I wasn't sure where I last saw my bag. Rooting around the kitchen frantically, I spotted Son's (20) wallet on top of the microwave and extracted a tenner. As my cousin Frank once said, "Sometimes it's easier to do the deed and apologise afterwards than to look for permission."
The black is a bit strong but it's a receding colour so hopefully we'll get used to it. Hubbie measured it. It's six foot tall and deeper and slightly wider than the last one.
I love it.
We left the fridge stay in the middle of the kitchen all day. Even though Bud said it only needed a couple of hours we decided to wait until 3pm to plug it in. Hubbie thinks the problem with the last fridge is that we plugged it in straight away.
After the delivery men left, Son (22) came down the stairs. He surveyed the beast now dominating the kitchen and examined its features. It has a water dispenser in the door and a temperature control panel in the front that lights up. He said, "It's like that time warp machine from Dr Who." He then got down on his knees and examined the underbelly. He reported back that it has feet and wheels and wrenching open the door announced, "Well, there's plenty of room for your cider."
It was then 9am and time to log on for work. Hubbie made himself a cup of tea and picking up the carton of milk sitting on the counter commented that it was cold. I told him I had left it in the garden overnight to keep it from going off. He stopped dead and said, "Rats could have peed on it." I reassured him, "It's ok. I put it in a flower pot up high on the window sill and, besides, I've used it three times already this morning and I'm feeling ok, so far."
While Son read the instruction manual cover to cover, I went back to work. "Should we leave room at the back?" he asked. "What does the manual say?" I said.
"I can't find it. Google it there will you?"
I got up to check the spelling on the door. It said 'Samsung.' I walked into Hubbie's office, "You said you ordered a German model."
"Oh yeah," he said, "I changed my mind. Is that a problem?"
"No, it's just I was going to name it Claudia. I don't know any Korean models, much less black ones."
At 3pm, all alone, I climbed the kitchen counter and plugged it in. No ceremony, nothing. I put the last can of cider in as a test.
Hubbie came into the kitchen ten minutes later to make a cup of tea. He examined the temperature widget on the fridge door. Fascinated by the flashing blue lights, he set the temperature and freezer to the maximum. Son (20) filled up the water dispenser. I can't see that novelty lasting. Son (22) asked "Will we set up the wine rack?" I laughed, "Don't be ridiculous. We don't drink wine."
Son (22) still reading the instruction manual, opened the door and said, "Wait now Mum, you'll love this." We waited. I hate leaving the fridge open. I was raised not to because it lets in the warm air which causes the fridge to work harder thus making it inefficient and this causes the electricity bill to go up. Old habits die hard. Every time, someone opens the door and leaves it open for longer than is strictly necessary, I get anal about it. Another reason why I think the last one packed up after only five years. Then a strange beeping noise happened like the reversing noise of a truck.
"What's that?" I said.
Son laughed and said, "When you leave the door open for more than a minute it reminds you to close it." Perfect. No more nagging: I have a machine to do it for me.
Half an hour later, alone in my 'office' I started to hear a high-pitched squealing noise. Being deaf, I miss most sounds but sometimes I pick up high tones like radio signals that others don't. Son (20) came into the kitchen. "Can you hear that?" I said. He stopped in his tracks and sleepily cocked his head to the side and said, "No."
I prowled the kitchen examining the usual suspects; radio, dishwasher, the boiler, washing machine but none of them were operating at that time. I went into the hall thinking it was either a TV or someone's phone but the sound receded. I stepped back into the kitchen. It was coming from the fridge. I rested my head on the door to make doubly sure. The horror, I can't be putting up with this noise for the next three weeks. I picked up my laptop and phone and moved out.
I spent the afternoon in my bedroom taking work calls and at 5pm, I chatted to Mum and my sisters on Zoom. At 5.40 pm, the call expired and I returned to the kitchen. Then I noticed it. The noise was gone. I leaned my head against the door of the beast and listened to its gentle purr.
I'm no scientist but I think that after my gizmo-loving, ambitious, testosterone-fuelled husband set the temperatures to Arctic levels, the strain of plummeting to such icy depths caused it to squeal. I opened the door and reached in to check the can of cider. It was too cold to hold. I shivered with pleasure. Bring on the book club. I'm ready for them now.
From Monday, though, I will have to move my office out of the kitchen: it's too distracting.
The delivery man, who introduced himself as Bud, carefully eased out the fridge from the back of the van and rolled it up the driveway into the house. It was enormous. Bud commented that black was a mad colour for a fridge and then with a nod to me, said, "I suppose you'll be wanting a new kitchen now to match it. " He told us to leave it stand for a couple of hours to let the gas inside settle, that the freezer would then take another while to get going and with a wink, he added. "So, don't be running off to Aldi just yet." I laughed a little too loudly: it was so wonderful to interact with strangers again.
He then said to Hubbie, "I won't ask you to sign for it because of Covid-19 but if you would just send a text to the mobile number on the email to confirm delivery that would be grand." Job done, he went to leave but then turned back and asked, "Do you want me to take the old one away for you?" This was incredibly decent of him: with Covid-19, he's only supposed to drop and run.
Hubbie told him that would be great and then whispered to me, "Quick, do you have any cash?" It's been so long since I used actual money, I wasn't sure where I last saw my bag. Rooting around the kitchen frantically, I spotted Son's (20) wallet on top of the microwave and extracted a tenner. As my cousin Frank once said, "Sometimes it's easier to do the deed and apologise afterwards than to look for permission."
I love it.
We left the fridge stay in the middle of the kitchen all day. Even though Bud said it only needed a couple of hours we decided to wait until 3pm to plug it in. Hubbie thinks the problem with the last fridge is that we plugged it in straight away.
After the delivery men left, Son (22) came down the stairs. He surveyed the beast now dominating the kitchen and examined its features. It has a water dispenser in the door and a temperature control panel in the front that lights up. He said, "It's like that time warp machine from Dr Who." He then got down on his knees and examined the underbelly. He reported back that it has feet and wheels and wrenching open the door announced, "Well, there's plenty of room for your cider."
It was then 9am and time to log on for work. Hubbie made himself a cup of tea and picking up the carton of milk sitting on the counter commented that it was cold. I told him I had left it in the garden overnight to keep it from going off. He stopped dead and said, "Rats could have peed on it." I reassured him, "It's ok. I put it in a flower pot up high on the window sill and, besides, I've used it three times already this morning and I'm feeling ok, so far."
While Son read the instruction manual cover to cover, I went back to work. "Should we leave room at the back?" he asked. "What does the manual say?" I said.
"I can't find it. Google it there will you?"
I got up to check the spelling on the door. It said 'Samsung.' I walked into Hubbie's office, "You said you ordered a German model."
"Oh yeah," he said, "I changed my mind. Is that a problem?"
"No, it's just I was going to name it Claudia. I don't know any Korean models, much less black ones."
At 3pm, all alone, I climbed the kitchen counter and plugged it in. No ceremony, nothing. I put the last can of cider in as a test.
Hubbie came into the kitchen ten minutes later to make a cup of tea. He examined the temperature widget on the fridge door. Fascinated by the flashing blue lights, he set the temperature and freezer to the maximum. Son (20) filled up the water dispenser. I can't see that novelty lasting. Son (22) asked "Will we set up the wine rack?" I laughed, "Don't be ridiculous. We don't drink wine."
Son (22) still reading the instruction manual, opened the door and said, "Wait now Mum, you'll love this." We waited. I hate leaving the fridge open. I was raised not to because it lets in the warm air which causes the fridge to work harder thus making it inefficient and this causes the electricity bill to go up. Old habits die hard. Every time, someone opens the door and leaves it open for longer than is strictly necessary, I get anal about it. Another reason why I think the last one packed up after only five years. Then a strange beeping noise happened like the reversing noise of a truck.
"What's that?" I said.
Son laughed and said, "When you leave the door open for more than a minute it reminds you to close it." Perfect. No more nagging: I have a machine to do it for me.
Half an hour later, alone in my 'office' I started to hear a high-pitched squealing noise. Being deaf, I miss most sounds but sometimes I pick up high tones like radio signals that others don't. Son (20) came into the kitchen. "Can you hear that?" I said. He stopped in his tracks and sleepily cocked his head to the side and said, "No."
I prowled the kitchen examining the usual suspects; radio, dishwasher, the boiler, washing machine but none of them were operating at that time. I went into the hall thinking it was either a TV or someone's phone but the sound receded. I stepped back into the kitchen. It was coming from the fridge. I rested my head on the door to make doubly sure. The horror, I can't be putting up with this noise for the next three weeks. I picked up my laptop and phone and moved out.
I spent the afternoon in my bedroom taking work calls and at 5pm, I chatted to Mum and my sisters on Zoom. At 5.40 pm, the call expired and I returned to the kitchen. Then I noticed it. The noise was gone. I leaned my head against the door of the beast and listened to its gentle purr.
I'm no scientist but I think that after my gizmo-loving, ambitious, testosterone-fuelled husband set the temperatures to Arctic levels, the strain of plummeting to such icy depths caused it to squeal. I opened the door and reached in to check the can of cider. It was too cold to hold. I shivered with pleasure. Bring on the book club. I'm ready for them now.
From Monday, though, I will have to move my office out of the kitchen: it's too distracting.
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