This last week has been most remarkable in terms of weather since I arrived in England. Every day the sun shone, the temperature reached into the high 20s C / 80s F, and despite the arrival of October, there was neither a scarf nor a pair of gloves to be seen, at least not in London.
Perfect timing for the refrigerator to go on the fritz. It has been groaning loudly for months, collecting inches of frost at the back of the fridge and freezer compartments where our jars of gherkins, onion chutney, and whatever else nearby was slowly swallowed up, only to be prised out with a hacking around the sides to loosen the goods (Tim’s choice of implement has been a paint scraper).
Yes, we saw it coming—in fact, I can recall doing research months ago on a fridge freezer that would fit the space the current one occupies—it’s about four feet high and narrow-ish, with a small freezer at the top. Tim wanted a unit where the freezer is at the bottom; except for ice and the occasional frozen veg or fruit, our freezer compartment remains relatively empty. I’m a fan of fresh fish, fresh chicken, fresh everything really, so the freezer doesn’t matter much. Even leftovers are generally quickly eaten rather than frozen.
Over the last two weeks we’ve awakened to an odd silence in the kitchen—no fridge croaking and whirring loudly. While we can’t be sure, we think the electricity gets tripped by the unit gasping for energy (wasted, no doubt) to remain powered up.
So, toast and morning coffee have waited for Tim to power off the main switch, flip the circuit and get everything up and running. It works, but it’s been annoying—the milk isn’t quite cold enough, nor is the yogurt, and worst of all the white wine isn’t chilled properly!
Several days ago I suggested to Tim that we either get a new unit or make sure I know how to get the electricity running again, and just before he left for Sweden to sail for two weeks, both happened—a fridge freezer, larger than the one we have (though likely far less thirsty on electricity), has been ordered. And, to be safe, the wall below the circuitry in the space under the stairs has scrawled in pencil the order of getting the electricity back on. I’ve referred to it once, and have just two days before John Lewis comes to the rescue . . . if in fact that is the reason why the power goes out, generally while we’re sleeping. I suppose I’ll know come Wednesday morning!
I spent a small part of today clearing the cabinet above where the old fridge sits—the new fridge is taller, so the cabinet previously filled with odds and sods of glassware and dishes will need to be removed. I thought I would be able to do it myself—emptying the various bits (and trying to find a new home for them, for which I was marginally successful), and then removing the glass interior shelving, I somehow thought that I’d be able to figure out a way to simply lift and separate the unit from the wall. I'm not sure what I expected to see—bolts to unscrew, perhaps—but there is no obvious indication of how that unit is attached to the wall.
So the new fridge freezer will take residence in some odd space near the area it will eventually reside, but not until sometime in the middle of October when Tim arrives back from his journey down the Baltic Sea, then through the Kiel Canal and into the North Sea to England. I don’t know the exact route, but here’s an idea:
The crew will be day sailing—meaning they will only travel by boat for about nine hours each day and then moor at some port each evening to relax, get a decent night’s rest, and start very early the next day. Tim was very much looking forward to the chance to see some of the Baltic ports; it is one of those small adventures of a lifetime, much like his trip across the Atlantic. As with that one, I will meet him on the other end, possibly in Gosport or some other place depending on when Nightfall—the new boat—arrives. Tom and Karen have been taking trips to Sweden to see their Arcona 46 being built, and she is now ready for the maiden sail to her home port.
The week before Tim left—our Indian summer—I made an effort to leave work on time and get home while it was still light so we could enjoy a sip of something along with the day’s conversation in the garden. It was a lovely week in hindsight; warm, clear nights relaxing at home, anticipating Tim's upcoming trip and wanting to spend some time together. We ventured out, too, and had dinner with Tim’s brother and his wife one evening on The Strand at a well-known curry house, and went for drinks at a neighbour’s house two doors’ down after dinner.
Saturday was a true delight—after a bit of gardening while Tim gathered his sailing gear and prepared for the trip, we had a lovely lunch in the shade and then took a stroll through Clissold Park, coming back to a dusky, warm evening. Life’s simple pleasures, courtesy of a generous Mother Nature who has extended her warmth into the early days of autumn.
