On the rocks
Writing a report no one cares about.
Writers are masters of procrastination. It’s a necessity. Either you have to put off writing until everything aligns and creativity strikes. Or more likely you are putting off other things so that you can write.
Writers know that Ben Franklin was right about the “stitch in time”. We don’t want to have to use more stitches than anyone else does. We are not stitch fetishists’. It’s just that there are only twenty-four hours in a day and writing demands more than it’s fair share of them. Many writers are compulsive about it. I resent the days that I don’t write. It’s that simple.
If you ask my Long Suffering Wife our house filled with examples of maintenance or repairs that have been deferred. Usually they are the things that are too small, too simple to warrant calling in a professional.
Like our refrigerator. We bought it twelve years ago when we moved into the house. It’s given faithful service and to date has only required one minor repair to the in door ice maker. That was five or six years ago and I managed it by heating up nails to push them into the plastic housing inside the door to hold the panel in place. Yep, the most Slavic, hack, repair ever. Don’t judge me. Like they told us in the Army, “if it’s stupid and it works…it isn’t stupid”.
A few years ago the ice dispenser stopped working. It was clogged by ice that had melted slightly during a power outage then froze into a solid block when the juice came back on. Several attempts to use the “crushed” ice setting on the machine had done little more than make a tunnel in the block of ice and dispense nothing more than ill will.
I could live with it because the thing still made ice cubes. Ice cubes are a key component if you like your whiskey cold and watered down. Which I do. My friend Todd, the Fish Wrap Writer will tell you it opens up the flavors of the whiskey. I have other friends who think it’s heresy to add ice to good whiskey. My position is unchanged by either argument.
Recently the refrigerator started leaking water onto the floor like an old incontinent cat. Even worse though, it only pushed out half a dozen cubes of ice a day. Unacceptable! My whiskey isn’t going to chill nor dilute itself sir!
Today, finally having a window of time, I decided to address the problem. I had consulted YouTube as every homeowner should. I emptied the food in the freezer into a cooler. Struggled to pull the shelves out. Undid the back panel and struggled to pull that out. The next cost of which was much swearing, scraped plastic a half inch cut on one knuckle. Blood on white plastic interior looks gnarly.
Armed with LSW’s hair dryer, a small hammer and a butter knife I entered the field of battle. I removed the basket where the ice should collect. In theory the dispenser can be lifted out by pushing a button on the side and lifting. The solid column of ice connecting the dispenser to the dispensing shoot had other ideas. I set to work with the hair drier, the butter knife and the hammer. After a solid fifteen minutes I managed to decapitate my foe. I felt victorious as I lifted the ice dispenser off it’s mount on the door in what I thought was certain victory.
Turning my vanquished foe over I saw that the entire dispensing chute was solid ice. My foe had out flanked me. I set to work with the butter knife and hammer. I chipped and chiseled, like some sort rock hunter after a precious stone. Ice chips flew everywhere in the kitchen. Another twenty minutes of solid labor and I chipped all the ice out. Another twenty minutes after that and the freezer was reassembled and it’s contents were back in there proper places.
Later, I will sit back and enjoy glass of bourbon. It will be cold. It will be watered down and it will taste like victory!