The fridge went. The freezer side kept its stuff cold and frosty but the fridge side refused to cooperate. Sometimes it was content to keep produce at the proper temperature but occasionally it would get cranky and when it was cranky it preferred to soften the butter and spoil the milk. Stuart tried several times to coax it into submission with a hair dryer. This worked but the hair dryer had to be pressed into service with alarming frequency. And one day, after I hastily rescued five packages of meat from the summery bowels of this appliance, the fridge went. Out to the garage because the freezer still works and a new fridge took its place. Black with French doors; the fridge on the top and the freezer on the bottom. It has an icemaker in the freezer but no water on the door. The kids were baffled by water on the door.
When we brought this black beauty in and set it in the place of old fridge, John said, "The other appliances will go into mourning. I bet they'll miss their old friend." John has the gift of personification but we didn't know he was a prophet. One by one, the appliances laid eyes on the chilly usurper and grieved for their warm friend. The waffle maker snapped its wires, the blender stopped blending, the faucet started to leak, the hand mixer developed a short, and the microwave hummed but didn't heat. Stuart thinks we have a kitchen virus. In the midst of our appliance replenishment frenzy we swapped out the smoking cook top for good measure with a smooth glass induction powerhouse that heats and cools on a dime.
So now I would like to ask the remaining appliances: the dishwasher, the bread maker and most especially the wheat grinder (who is very lackadaisical of late) to stop it. Just stop it! Show some backbone. Cheer up, buckle down, and get to work! That's all I have to say. Thank you.