So, when last we left off, there was this thing in my kitchen.
My kitchen is a well known disaster.
Ugly doesn't begin to cover it.
We blew the remodeling budget on Disney trips.
A lot.
But now it's time to do something about it.
I've put in new floors.
I've fixed the walls and ceiling.
It's time to start chipping away at the hideous things that make people stop
mid-canape' and ask,
"You didn't cook this in here, did you?"
The rusted out refrigerator got voted off the island first.
That led to me and my friend and often project manager,
Peter, hitting The Depot first thing Sunday morning to pick up Dean in
Peter's enviably huge Titan.
I'm getting truck fever again, kids.
Dean was all shrink wrapped and ready to go.
I'd chosen a floor model textured black side-by-side
with gallon door shelves, glass spill proof shelves,
water and ice through the door, and a 25.0 cubic foot capacity.
Clearance price was $797, and I negotiated an additional $70 off,
So brand new with warranty, Dean was $727 out the door.
But we had to get it out the door ourselves.
I like my new refrigerator.
A lot.
Maybe too much.
Please note the bonus free pallet!
Why do I mention this?
It may or may not be key in the next step of out journey.
Peter hopped in the back to keep an eye on the appliance
while I got to drive.
Insert Tim Allen grunt here.
We discussed returning for the forklift.
It was decided Home Depot would eventually notice it was missing.
Stupid security cameras.
So instead, we resorted to brute strength and ingenious planning.
Having at least one of those would have been nice.
But we did have a pallet!
How did I LIVE without these?!?
If you look slowly, you may mistake the expression on my dog's face for trepidation.
It's actually just hunger.
And confusion.
And he may itch.
This wasn't going anywhere near badly enough, so I called in the minions.
Savannah was already with us, wielding the camera.
She did a rather breathtaking pictorial od the freckles on my back.
I deleted those shots immediately.
Damned kids.
Most of this needs no captioning.
Just cringe along with me, imagining the sound a refrigerator makes when
it hits the pavement from four feet up.
I was expecting first hand experience at any moment.
We experimented with the true sturdiness of the average free pallet.
I'm pleased to say they ARE pretty structurally sound.
Even though I doubt this is a recommended use.
I'm getting motion sickness.
Well, we'll call it that.
One doorway navigated.
It was a tighter fit than me in a size 8.
Still baffled.
And hungry.
The second doorway would require removing the doors, which is a simple task
accomplished with an adjustable wrench.
My suggestion of a circular saw was ignored.
*Men working so fast clear photos weren't possible.
At least that's my claim.*
There's no food in the fridge. Stirling.
Go lick yourself somewhere.
Eventually, it was in the kitchen,
the doors went back on,
and most importantly,
Stirling got a Beggin' Strip.
Now, what would you do with a spare refrigerator that has
marginally acceptable cooling capabilities?
Remove the doors and set it on the curb to be adopted?
Have it hauled away to the landfill?
Something normal and responsible?
Stop it.
That's just funny.
You must be new around here,
or you'd KNOW better!
We're just going to have a cocktail with our new friend...
(Not everyone drinks with their appliances.)
...but then we have plans.
Plans that include a rusty old refrigerator, a free oak pallet,
some fine grit sandpaper...
...and THIS.
You've met Dean.
Come back tomorrow and meet Ruby.
