Swamp Is Drained

Swamp Is Drained

The swamp has been drained. Literally, a swamp of nasty was lurking in the bottom drawer of my now defunct freezer. Slimy spinach that I’d previously frozen for my smoothies floated in a coffee brown liquid along with part of a chip clip, small pieces of plastic, and various and sundry chunks of unidentifiable food and non-food matter.

You know someone is your friend when they volunteer to clean out your hot fridge full of rancid, reeking food. Thanks to Elaine, tonight the inside of my refrigerator looks like the day we bought it.

It’s not fun hauling bags of food from your fridge to the trash. I guess I should say, it’s not fun watching someone else haul your food to the trash outside. Elaine ordered me to sit on my butt with my foot propped up.

All the waste! And the tortillas!!! There must have been over 350 of them!!! We have a tortilla hoarding issue.

Luckily, LG said they would reimburse us for food loss. I took pictures before unloading, but I have no idea how to estimate the cost of the Hagen Das bars, salmon, numerous condiments, meats, cheeses, and on and on.

Once I’m able to stand for any length of time and start cooking again, I’m envisioning a series of scenarios in which I open the fridge to grab a staple ingredient for a go-to recipe – baking soda or chicken bouillon – and it won’t be there. I’m starting from scratch.

It feels good to start with a sparkling, clean fridge and to know that all the food that will go in it after Thursday’s repair will be fresh, not like the smushy cucumber and slimy green onions that seem to always hide in my produce drawer. No cheese with hard corners. No crusty goo on the rim of the salsa jar.

My empty refrigerator awaiting its new contents reminds me how grateful I am for plenty of food to eat. For friends who have filled that refrigerator with meals and kombucha during the hardest time of our lives. For friends who have been the hands of Jesus in the most practical, meaningful ways. So grateful.

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Ibuprofen and Eger

Ibuprofen and Eger

I Blame the Refrigerator

I Blame the Refrigerator