Equipment Failure

Refrigerators should last forever. Gas ones do, because they have no moving parts, you just replace the door gasket every ten or fifteen years. I've never bought a new one. I think I've bought five, maybe six, in my life, and all of them were working fine when I left wherever it was. The one here is dying, 15 years old, used, bought for $200. When Glenn and I lived in the church, the fridge was a monitor-top, forty years old and still fine. $13.33 a year is not bad, and I'm not complaining, but I fear I'll be losing condiments, and, of course, there is the mess, and getting rid of accumulated crap and disposing of the carcass. I can save a few things, the sauce, some kimchee, and eat what was in the freezer. But I'll have to enlist B's aid, because he still has a truck and getting a refrigerator through a doorway almost requires two people. This one, the dying Hotpoint, I unloaded by myself, walked it up a ramp and into place, and it took me several days to recover. I get out my largest cooler, and I'll pick up some ice tomorrow, I can save a few things, it might be a week before I can arrange all the logistics. It isn't just a matter of calling someone to take care of a problem, this life, the ridge, is difficult of access, timing is important, I have to prioritize how I spend my time. Today, for instance, when I should have been thinking about what I could be doing, I was reading Anne Dillard. Later I read a great essay by Lopez. The greening is almost complete. When I go outside now, after I've been inside for a couple of hours reading or writing, the wall of green baffles me. Spots in my visual field, Muscae volitantes, those floating shapes. Later, I count my blessings, I learned to cook brisket over very low heat for a very long time. While you're cooking this, you could be doing almost anything else, trimming fruit trees or grape vines, harvesting barnacles for a pasta dish. And when you're done, you felt you had accomplished something. I had to cook the brisket, it was in the freezer. Went to town and Cory wanted me to sample the two new beers on tap, then Tina and Chris bought me a beer at Noggins so that we could sit outside and talk. Bought what I needed to feed TR when he comes over tomorrow, then stopped at the used appliance place on the way home. A cash only business and I needed to stop and see what he had; a great, clean unit that will fit, exactly, the space, $200. I tell him I'll be back as soon as I clean out the old one and arrange transport. He's says he'll take the old carcass. I brought home a bag of ice, so I could save the sauce and a few other things, but I'm using this as a chance to clean. The old fridge had gotten quite funky. B says to just give him a call Monday or Tuesday and we can do the switch. When I get home Rodney is stuck at the top of the hill, his reverse has ceased to function and I have to drag him backward, which takes a couple of attempts. Finally in the house and it's very hot, so I turn on the AC and go look for mushrooms. I'd like to make a mushroom gravy for the tenderloin medallions I'll be cooking tomorrow. Caramelized onions and peppers, saffron rice. We might as well dine in style. I found a nice batch of morels. Made an excellent gravy for the brisket. I'd rubbed the meat with whatever is in my current dry rub, seared it, wrapped it in foil and cooked it for six hours off the heat. When I unwrapped it, saving all the juice, I smoked it for a hour or so, to dry the surface, and give it a little smokey tang. Add the juice to some of the sauce, add that to the mushroom gravy. Slice the meat thin and serve it on smashed potatoes. I nuke large Russet potatoes, now that I don't have a fire, then cut off slices and fry them, or sometimes just smash the potato with butter and black pepper. It's a great vehicle. I told B today that I almost felt guilty, enjoying my mundane life. I'm giving a reading for the Nature Club next week, and they're feeding me dinner, I figure I should be able to get home just at dark. I know a lot of these people and they're very sharp. They know way more than I do about any given thing. The last time I read for them I was corrected several times, correctly, about my identification of specific weeds. I'm pretty good on wild grasses and weeds, but they're better than me. I admit that grudgingly, but I like to be well informed, so I nod my head and defer. Lessons learned.