New Refrigerator

It has been a while since we've needed a new appliance here at the Way Out Inn. Two years ago, almost, we bought ourselves a new washer when the old one petered out. Today, the verdict is in -- the fridge has ceased working. The compressor -- shot beyond repair or reasonable expense to replace. A new compressor for a close to 20 year old Fridgadaire is more expensive than a new fridge with the parts, labor etc... figured in. Fridgeman came today and I am late for work (hence the quick entry, I'm late anyway) due to his visit.

He wanted to time the visit so that he could come in early, figure out the problem and if he needed to send out for a part he could come back in the afternoon. No use... he said she's gone. He recommended getting a bag of ice for the freezer and keeping our fresh food up there until we get a new fridge.

I'm okay with the fact that the fridge is dead. I knew this day would eventually come. The thing that grates my cheese is the timing. I want to someday redo the whole kitchen, and expand the cabinetry towards our bedroom door.

To do that, the floor will need replaced, and the cabinets would need built. And installed. There is an L shaped cabinet part that sticks out into the room that I am hoping we could simply cut and reposition (all the drawers are in that). And I'd like a dishwasher.

I have mentally planned out the layout of the kitchen, and I like what is in my mind. And in the kitchen of the not too distant future, there is a nice huge fridge along that wall, and where the fridge is now a built in hutch with the drawers from the L shaped thing as the base, shelves above, and plenty of storage.

I don't just want to go buy a fridge -- I wanted a rebirthing of the kitchen, and that would not have been say THIS week in my life. So the fridge has to be purchased, and I am thinking we'll just buy one that fits in the current place instead of my mondo phat and super superfridge.

Sigh.

---

Last night, or shall I say early this morning, around 3am, there was a horrible caterwauling coming from the woods behind our house. Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom raged in the silent woods of our bedroom community, and it was scary.

It wasn't a cat fight -- there was only one voice. Screaming and whistling. Eventually whistles softly fell by themselves in what sounded like resignation and defeat. But prior to said defeat, the fight was vicious. There were breaking branches, snapping and crunching in the dark, and trees shaking and trembling. And the screaming just went on and on. Part of me wanted to go stop whatever was happening out there. I mean, it wasn't like there was a mountain lion or a cougar or something that could shred me to death. But a pissed off raccoon isn't something I wanted to confront at 3am. I was seconds away from calling the police to see if they could come out and stop whatever was going on when the battle ended...

Good thing too, I didn't want to somehow end up on Howie Carr's "Police Blotter Fax Friday" segment on WRKO this week.

"Dateline: Small Town. A woman called police to request they come break up some sort of murderous animal rampage in the woods behind her house at 3am on Wednesday. Police laughed at her and hung up, telling her next time she should dial 912."

Doug figures it was probably a bird and her nest got raided. A raccoon or something else decided to help itself to the babies. I think he's probably correct.

But it ruined my night's sleep. I fell asleep around 9:30 or so, and had horrible dreams about Uday Hussein (thank you History Channel for that enlightening documentary you showed at 8pm last night. Jerks) and once the murder in the dark was over, I couldn't get back to sleep. I finally got back into snoozing mode at 4:30, after listening intently to the woods for any signs of life, and feeling my pulse race for ever... and the next thing I know the alarm is going off. Meh!

This morning there is no physical evidence in the woods that I can see, but Jackie was extra twitchy and sniffy when I took him out there to do his thing this morning.

By the way, on the Monkey Reference Log to the left there, I should really NOT count yesterday's email from Mr. Garfield. He is well aware that I'm logging monkey references, and has taken it upon himself to add one to my day. Seeing as it was the only one, I'll be the ref here and ignore the foul. Someone picking up the phone or sending me an email that has the word monkey, or ape, or something simian in it shouldn't count. They have to be "natural" monkey sightings, like Homer getting upset on Monday's Simpsons rerun because of the change in programming -- "MTC: Monkey Trauma Center" will not be seen tonight so we can bring you this episode of "Taxicab Conversations."

And my mother totally disagrees with me that you can't go a day without a monkey sighting. I suppose if you're home all day retired, and you don't get out much, and you don't channel surf so you accidentally pass Nickelodeon's Wild Thornberry's or Animal Planet and the many many monkey programs there, she may be right.

In my life though -- there's a monkey a day.

Are you playing along? Let me know if you are!

Well, I should head to work. I worked an extra 45 minutes yesterday to make up for this time, so before I have to work extra to make up for MORE time spent away from the office, I should jet. More later.