a peek inside the fishbowl

I’m sitting here waiting for our refrigerator to be picked up. It will be anytime between 9:00 and 1:00 p.m. Gack.

This fridge we’re getting rid of is probably over 20 years old. In fact, it’s the kind that has one big door and a little freezer up top. The freezer was really an ice cave – the walls were always coated with frost … great for dramatic effect (“Look kids! My hand is going into the ice cave!”), but not so great for actually keeping stuff frozen.

When we first moved into our house (this was 10 years ago) my in-laws bought us a new fridge. The old one got moved downstairs. Since that time it’s been mostly used as a beer fridge. I also moved extra condiments down there too – seldom-used sauces like “Memories of Wichita” etc. – and from time to time I used it to store prepared food for holiday dinners or when we were having company.

Months ago we unplugged it. The thing was in need of a serious defrosting. And then we never bothered plugged it back in. We estimated it was costing us $150/year to run, possibly more. It just wasn’t worth it.

Now, if we want cold beer we just take a few bottles out of the twofer’ and put in the upstairs fridge. Memories of Wichita went into the garbage. And when company comes (which is a rare occasion) I just shuffle food around and find space. Sure, extracting things can be a pain in the butt, but is it really worth $150/year? No.

Our old fridge is going to be claimed by the Great Refrigerator Roundup.

As long as the fridge is in working order they’ll take it away – for FREE – and recycle it. Apparently by the time they’re done with it, the only part going into the landfill is small enough to fit inside a hat.

Pretty cool huh?

Next post: one where I pretend to be a professional model.

Today is crazy. But I love it.

Sarah had a birthday party to attend on Sunday morning at Ray’s Reptiles, which is a solid 30-minute drive from where we live. We debated whether to drive out there, drop her off, come back home and then drive back to pick her up, but then we decided it would just be easiest if we did something in the area.

R-i-i-ght.

Well, you know what? There isn’t much around there. So we packed up our golf clubs (by OURs I mean Mark and Emma’s) and left.

So while Sarah was going to be hanging out with the likes of this guy:

We were going to hit the greens. And by WE I mean Mark and Emma. Although I gave it the ol’ college try as well:

And here is the mini-putt. Sadly, it wasn’t the kind that had revolving miniature ferris wheels, multi-level towers or scary clowns. This was Mini-Golf In Natural Setting. It was pretty, but I shouldn’t have chosen an orange ball, considering much of the area was covered in leaves.

(If I had money in invest in a business venture I would definitely set up a mini-putt. Sheesh. It’s a license to print money.)

At the end of it all we had a bit of extra time to kill so we drove another km or so down Bank St. to an antique shop. It was great. They had so.much.stuff! Some very cool things too.

Say, if I told you I saw an 8-track player shaped like a giant robot would you believe me?

No? Well check it out:

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