November 17, 2002

Welcome to Wyndspirit Dreams! I have a refrigerator that any single person would drool over. It’s a spiffy thing, barely one year old, with a cool black door handle. It’s roomy, with neat little cubbies in the door and even a classy "deli" drawer. It’s full of eggs and bread and cheese and bologna and condiments and pudding and soda—all the essentials of singlehood meals. My refrigerator is not a problem.

Its freezer, on the other hand, hates me. Not all freezers hate me—just this one. Now, I have the same stuff in it that I have always had in my freezers—ice cubes, frozen water bottles, a few frozen meals, extra flour and powdered milk, some chocolate chips, a stash of home cooked single-serve dishes, an extra loaf of bread, sandwich meat, a can of frozen orange juice, sometimes ice cream. In fact, this freezer is bigger than some of the freezers I’ve had in the past. It’s packed the same way I have always packed my freezers. For as long as I’ve lived on my own, I’ve had to make do with the freezer part of a refrigerator for all my freezing needs. Trust me, I know how to pack a freezer. But this freezer hates me. It throws things at me. I cannot open the door without getting caught in a hail of bottles, bologna packages, and the occasional margarine container of home cooked stew. Frozen stuff is hard when it whacks you!

I have been analyzing this freezer ever since I got it. I just don’t understand what’s different about it. Maybe it’s because it’s the first brand-new appliance I’ve ever owned. Do they need a training period or something to teach them manners, like puppies? Do I need to put a training bar across the front so the stuff learns how to stay put? Should I punish it by unplugging it for awhile? Or is it possessed? Do I have a poltergeist living in my freezer? Maybe the ghost who haunted my childhood bedroom got lonely and decided to come live with me. Goodness knows, as cold as my room got in winter, he’d feel right at home in the freezer!

I have no idea how to make stuff stay in that freezer. Even thinking about it gives me a headache. Or maybe that’s from the frozen pizza I got whacked with a little bit ago… Maybe I should just give up and keep an ice pack for all the lumps and bumps it gives me. Then again… I’m not sure I want to give it even more ammunition!
 
 

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meadowlark@wyndspirit.com

Wyndspirit Dreams