Twelve days ago our refrigerator signed off for the final time. That ammonia smell meant its cooling element had a serious leak, and since ten refrigerator years are like 70 human years, there seemed little point in spending half the price of new unit on a rebuilt element. Camping World has our model on sale, and Good Sam membership comes with an Install Anything for $39 benefit. We ordered one from the Flagstaff CW knowing it would be shipped there from Phoenix. This was supposed to take 3 to 5 business days. Today makes ten, but who’s counting?
We’ve played Good Cop/Bad Cop with the same effect as that tactic had upon Al Capone. Now we’re playing the Waiting Game camped on the premises of Camping World. We’re not popular with the natives, but to date that hasn’t helped. We’ve lost no food, and have enjoyed everything in the freezer, but ice chest reliance got old several days ago.
Yesterday we heard that today would be the day our shipment comes in. It’s noon, and no news is not good news. We washed the trailer and the truck a couple of days ago, and the rig looks sharp again. Pink got a bath yesterday and lost the pound or two of red dust she’d been carrying in her coat. We washed the rugs and the dust is gone, at least until our next dirt road. I may change the oil in the generator later today if nothing happens. It’s been time fairly well spent, but we miss our ‘frige.
Pink has become bored with ice chest cuisine. She has a strong preference for leftovers with her Iams, but once the freezer was emptied, the leftovers dried up. We cook exactly what we think we’ll eat. For a while I got by with adding a bit of chicken bouillon to her chow, but that didn’t last long. As lunch meat nears the end of its ice chest life I now throw in a slice of ham, or pastrami, or hot link. Pink enjoys those meals. A couple of days ago I added some thick sliced bologna, but she wouldn’t eat it. I tried again a day later. You should have seen the expression of disgust on doggie’s face! I’ll finish the bologna and Pinky can knock out the bratwurst. My dog has higher standards for cold cuts than I. Who’s the stupid one?
That’s a rhetorical question. You are not supposed to answer it.