About a Fridge

I bought a new fridge.  This is not at all valuable or exciting information except that, this fridge is so much more than a fridge.  This fridge is the beginning of letting myself live the life that I have now.  Dude, I know.

For the longest time, five years or so, my little bar fridge and I moved through life all care free and rootless.  Big fridges were for people with families and gardens and babies and parrots and tvs. I wasn’t ready for big appliances.  They were for those who knew what was what and who had settled into full lives of root growing and large quantities of fresh produce.

Then suddenly, a month or two ago, it was time.  I realised that although my life may not look like what I thought it would (boy, it’s time to break up with that sentence), it was okay to have roots and plans and large quantities of fresh produce, anyway.

So I bought a fridge.  It’s huge and silver and has a water dispenser in the door, a tray for eggs and a home for at least two bottles of wine.  This fridge is not messin’ around.  This fridge is going to hold the ingredients of many dinner parties and champagne bottles and left over pizza and the last slice of birthday cake and maybe one day a baby bottle or two.  A full life kinda appliance.  Welcome to the family, fridge.

(Turns out fridges aren’t so photogenic.  So here now instead, a picture mostly of my hair, well on its way to embracing the Grace Coddinton-ness it has secretly yearned for for years.)

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