It became known as the summer of the Great Thaw. Not to be confused with the Silent Warming, when the old chest freezer simply gave up.The Great Thaw was controlled. Intentional. But with it came the sounds of spring: the trickle of water, the crack and thud of ice breaking and falling.
Sounds of hope.
An upright freezer can be a contrary thing, especially when it knows how to sneak its door open a crack for warmer air. In this particular household lurked one of these, rare in that its cold sprang from its shelves themselves rather than its walls.
Between the effects of time and the thaw/freeze cycle from its warm-air penchant, the shelves achieved great thickness: three times the original, and in places more.
Woe to the individual who had to fit a turkey or other non-tortilla-shaped item between these shelves. The frost grew, until an arm reaching for veggies wedged at the back would come out scratched and frost-tinged.
The time of fresh blueberries rapidly approached, and what were the homeowners to do? Never in their wildest imaginings could they fathom how to lodge sufficient boxes of the dark blue treasures for the year ahead.
The female of the home, a courageous lass, took drastic action. She flung open the freezer door, carried the contents to safe haven, and turned off the thermostat.
At the word of her intrepid mother, who is wise in these ways, she set an electric fan to blow into the den of frost.
The frost protested, turned to ice, but to no avail. First slowly, then with the eagerness of spring, water began to drip and ice to loose its hold.
Freedom came to the home.
Ice-free but cold again, the freezer has a new chance to preserve the family’s food. To help with this vital mission, it now wears an appliance lock to curtail midnight chats with the furnace that shares its lair.
May it long stand, this cold sentinel, protecting blueberries, ice cream and all manner of precious and perishable goods.
© Janet Sketchley, 2009
--------
For devotionals, reviews and conversation, stop by Janet Sketchley's blog, God with Us: Finding Joy.
Oh the joys of frost-free!
ReplyDeleteDelightful (and I wish I could free a few of those blueberries from that freezer's cold grasp!).
What lovely writing. You have such a gift. I was with you all the way.
ReplyDeletelove
J
I loved it! You kept me enthralled with the adventures of the warm hearted freezer.
ReplyDeleteEntertaining and humorous... Don't you love defrosting a freezer?
ReplyDeleteThey'd be plenty squishy if I tried to mail them to you!
ReplyDeleteI like what you've written. I'll store this humour for the next occasion when I defrost my old freezer. Good to see you take the advice of your "intrepid mother"!
ReplyDeleteI like what you've written. I think I'll store this humour to help fortify me the next time I defrost my old freezer. Good to hear that you took the advice of your "intrepid mother"!
ReplyDeleteStill think that freezer hates me... One of us has to go.
ReplyDeleteI know this post is months old, but I'm only now tuning in to your blog, and I'm amazed at how timely it is, as well as how much your freezer has in common with mine. Mine is also an upright; it rooms with the furnace; its shelves are way too fat right now; and it must experience a great thaw this week, before the man of the house gets home from his field work with a bushel full of pine needles that need to be frozen until they can be sent off to the lab for chemical analysis. Thank goodness this Sunday is soup and buns day at church. I will be able to purge the last of my leftovers from the freezer so the needles will find a home.
ReplyDeleteStill wondering if you're in Canada, and where. Camille thought you were in England.
I'm in Canada, Ginny, on the opposite coast from you. Not that England would be a bad place to be...
ReplyDeleteGood luck with your freezer. Hmmm, freezing pine needles. Somebody could be in for a surprise if they grabbed that package in a hurry for supper : )
Oh, and the freezer is meek and obedient now that we've installed a lock.