Bought a refrigerator today. It immediately occurred to me that we had never bought a refrigerator before. There was always one there, in the kitchen, when we moved in. Then this ancient Admiral we’ve had for decades–perhaps you’ve drunk far too many beers from it–went terminal. We went through the usual stages, denial, etc., but the repairman made it clear we needed another refrigerator. A new one, he said, is better than paying the repairman. Then he asked for forty dollars. I sighed and paid up and then did several very dull hours worth of research on refrigerators. There is nothing exciting about refrigerators. Nothing sexy. Married couples don’t post videos of themselves making love on the refrigerator. Washing machines, dryers, even a turned on dishwasher, yes, but never atop the refrigerator. I did so much research on refrigerators that I was able to recognize them by model number alone. Is that the Haier HT21TS45SW? Wow! Consumer Reports raved about that one! (They did, too.) Oh, it’s the HT21TS45SB. The twenty cubic footer. Never mind.

So we wound up at Lowes tonight and got a new Frigidaire for a song…well, a song and five hundred bucks. Model FFTR1821QW. Eighteen cubic feet, top freezer, white (black was more expensive, and the stainless steel seemed decadent.) There are pictures on the Lowes site, both bare and shiny and ethereal or packed full of all kinds of product placement, but I’ll leave it to your imagination. It goes nicely with the brand new bathroom sink, or would, except it’s in the kitchen. And no, it has no ice maker. But still, are these exciting times or what?

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