My Scrapbook

I'm not sure this merits a weblog posting, but I'm experiencing a bit of trauma today.

For, oh, about six months, our fridge has been making a clunk sound. It is when the compressor cycles on and off, and at first it was a smallish alarming clunk. Then over time, it grew to a louder alarming clunk. Then the it started going "clunk-clunk". We chose to ignore it, because for a while the appliances all started going out at the same time. So, while I had the stove repair guy in, I asked for a little free diagnosis on the clunk. He was pretty sure it would be a bad compressor.

So I finally called up Sears, took up their offer on a service contract before they came out, hedging my bets it was the end of the line for this unit, and sure enough we got the replacement fridge because the repair was more than $500. (NOTE: If you have a major appliance repair, take Sears up on the service contract, it has got to be losing them tons of money, but hey, if it's out there....)

Anyway, to today. I have to get the fridge ready to go away, and that involves removing all the stuff off our current fridge. And I got to thinking, that since I never have time to put a scrapbook together, that fridge is the record of our lives. It hasn't been stripped and cleaned since we got it, 6+ years ago, and I felt like an archaeologist peeling the layers of spelling tests, photographs, funny magnets, school notices, and everything else. I won't tell you how grimey the whole thing was on the doors, I probably should have cleaned it at least bi-annually.

Anyway, judge for yourself: our beloved fridge, before and after. Ouch.