When we purchased the fridge, the Home Depot guy explained that they would deliver it and carry away the old one. They would also hook up the water line for the ice maker … if it was a plastic line and not copper. Hmmmm.

the water tube, all new and ready to be attached

Of course it was copper. I called Kenny, the plumber. Kenny is an independent plumber and the only phone number is the home phone, so I (and others) call and leave a message. I called. The answering message said that Kenny would be unavailable until the 17th. No good, as the refrigerator would be delivered on the 14. So I called another plumber that I’d used years and years ago (but liked, and they came right away). The lady who answered the phone, in response to my, “I need some plumbing work done,” said, “Oh, he’s got the people out at a construction site.” “How long,” I asked. “Oh, for about a month.” Hmmm. So, I had to call a stranger, who did come and did look at things, and did go back and get plastic tubing, and did replace the thing.

Then, I went to clean the back wall and baseboards, the ones that hadn’t been cleaned since we moved in, the fall of 2006. I scooted the fridge out of the way and some water leaked out. I wiped it up. I scooted it some more. More water. More wiping. I looked inside the fridge to see if I could access whatever area was holding water. Of course not. So, I scooted and danced that fridge all over the kitchen; more and more water squished out; more and more rags got soaked. In the process, I knocked over the bottle of wood cleaner I’d gotten out to clean the paneled wall and baseboards. The pretty old bottle. It fell to the floor. And broke. So now, in addition to dirty water all over, there’s oily, orange-scented wood cleaner oozing around. Not pretty. At all.

The new three-pronged trip-plug

As I cleaned up all the mess and got to the original project (remember, cleaning the back wall and baseboards), I noticed the plug. The one the old refrigerator had been drawing electricity from. The very same one that had provided electricity to refrigerators in this house since 1959. A regular two-prong plug (with an adapter on it). Why on earth hadn’t we had a grounded plug put in there when the house was getting “all new service” back in the summer of 2006. I suppose because THERE WAS A REFRIGERATOR THERE!! And I just didn’t think about it. Looking back, the ELECTRICIANS should have thought about it, since we’d already established that there wasn’t a single, no, not one, grounded plug in the entire house!

But, water under the bridge. I called the electrician and explained what I needed. He said he’d come on Friday morning. Meanwhile, the phone/landline was all static-y and noisy (and not working). David called the Grande people, and he and that guy worked (David plugging and unplugging things, the Grande guy at his desk, evaluating the situation from his end), and they determined that one of the plugs wasn’t working, and a guy would come out Friday morning. Okay? Oh, of course, why not!

The electrician came and, “as long as you’re here,” put new trip plugs for the fridge and two other spots in place. The Grande guy made things work, though when he said he was going out the check the wires on the pole, I said, “Hmm. There are two poles right now. But I imagine you know how to find yours.”

Meanwhile, there was milk in the ice-filled cooler, and I kept using up eggs until they smelled a little funny.

Out with the old

Monday. Yay, yay, hooray! By 9:30 the big truck was here and two guys came in to fetch the old fridge, which leaked water SOME MORE, as they struggled to get it out the door. They looked at me and I said, with great certainty, “It came in that very door. It hasn’t gotten larger since then.” And of course they got it out.

I looked out at them removing the new fridge from its box and taking off the packing stuff. And went out and asked for the box. It’s a request they are not accustomed to. “I have a little grandson,” I said. “This will make a wonderful play place for him.” They weren’t unagreeable, just a little skeptical. “Uh, okay. We’ll take the trash out of it when we’re done moving the fridge inside.”

“You don’t need to do that,” I said. “I’m the one who wants the box.” So, as they were moving the fridge into the garage and then the house, I was throwing the packing trash into our own trash bin (conveniently located right there at the curb, as it was trash collection day for us), and dragging the giant box into the garage.

They plugged it in to the new plug and attached the new plastic tube to the ice/water intake.

And I went off to the grocery store.

Now, as it’s a different arrangement than the old one, I’m trying to figure out where things should go, and how is the most convenient, efficient way to organize it. And really, how many magnets and recipes and other stuff needs to be on the front and sides. I’m still deciding.

But sometimes, I just go and open the doors for a few seconds and look in. It’s great!

Oh, I forgot to tell you about this: I was so excited at Home Depot when I found out that there actually was the kind of refrigerator that I really wanted in a width that our space would accommodate, that I didn’t once think about the height. David mentioned it, casually, that evening and I said, just as casually, “I think it’s fine.” The next day I went online and checked, and oh, no, no, no, not at all. It was taller than the old one by two and 7/8 inches. I went to get the tape measure and discovered that, oh, yes, it was too tall. But just a bit. Which might be all right for some fabric, stuffed, thing that we could squish into the space. But refrigerators don’t squish very well. So David spent the next two or three evenings with a crowbar, chisel, and other tools, pulling out that cabinet. Hard work pays off. It puts a taller fridge into a smaller space. Hooray!!