Thursday, 19 August 2010

Cool...


Some time ago, I posted a lament on how I was being attacked by MS Outlook on my PC. It was really getting up my nose, and was taking ages to respond to anything except a clenched fist, after which the whole machine went into a terminal sulk, and I had to reinstall Windows.

I also mentioned how electricity has an unusual effect on me with the few words: - "Oh and also I'm buggered if I can work out why the bottom of our frost-free freezer accumulates ice quicker that the Great Scandinavian Glacier. In fact, it may not be long before the whole of the Turrets will be encased in a bloody great blue ice cube, eventually sliding downhill and probably reaching Bodiam Castle by 2015!"

Well, it damn well nearly happened a few days ago. Our freezer is supposed to be frost free, which means that it defrosts itself and drains any water out the back.

Well it doesn't. The warranty had long run out, and we were left with a piece of kit which feebly cooled the coldest of frozen food, ice cream etc, and used to make sudden cracking noises exactly like an iceberg would do just before it breaks away from the mainland and obscures shipping, seals and penguins etc., from the telescopes of the Globule Worming brigade.

So, out with the special socket spanner attachment (actually used to lock the windows to keep marauders out), and after several 'buggers' and a large 'sod it', away we went into the ice cavern.

We were in there some cosiderable time.

Inside was the biggest piece of ice I've ever seen out of a television programme about The Arctic! No wonder Norway groans (Nil Points), because this stuff is evil! It was at least three inches thick, and wound round every crevice, wire, bracket and panel, and the drawers were struggling to stay on track! It took me three hours with Mrs S's industrial hairdryer to melt it all, and there was water all over the place.

And why? Because the manufacturers had left out the tiny plastic insert which leads the melting water out to the back of the thing! It only took about a minute to make a new one.

But at last we can now sit back, knowing that we won't get scared out of our skin at the rifle shots of cracking ice, that the icecream actually needs an icepick, and that all the broad beans Mrs S is collecting will be nice and hard for when winter makes one yearn for the balmy days of Summer!

And the paradox is that I'm saving carbon miles by freezing our own stuff, spending them by using a hairdryer for three hours, saving them by negating food miles because we keep all manner of small creations there, and spending them again by telling everyone that frost-free freezers don't always do what they say on the label...

7 comments:

Thud said...

DIY at its best...real mans work!...i hope the missus approved of your skills.

rvi said...

Well done that man! Most folk would simply have said: This machine no longer works, so switch it off. Then go away for the weekend. That would have left you with a puddle in the kitchen on your return, but a fridge miraculously working again as it should (until the next time!).

To help pass the long summer evenings, you could make a film about all this entitled Ice Cold in Tunbridge Wells.

vw: awfits - yes it does, doesn't it..

Scrobs... said...

Has to be doesn't it Thudders!

I have to confess that when these jobs need doing, I cast around wondering what others might do, and your name also came into the frame...

Many thanks!

Scrobs... said...

Thanks Reevers - it really was far too big a chunk to just ignore, so it was either that or death by iceberg...

Did I ever tell you that I knew Christopher Landon, who wrote 'Ice cold in Alex'? I was at school with his daughter, Letitia, and unfortunately, he was on the bottle just a few times when it was published. Her mum was a sweetie.

The big bookshop in Rye (Gouldens), had a whole window display dedicated to the book, and it really should be on my 'favourites'...

rvi said...

No, Scrobs, I don't think you ever did mention it.

Moreover, in all my years of gallivanting hither and yon, I have never once met anybody called Letitia. Am I alone in this, I wonder?

Scrobs... said...

Reevers, she was the only Letitia I knew as well...

She was called 'Lettuce', (and probably hated it), by another girl (Margaret) who was a chum of ours, and by pure coincidence, many years afterwards, bought the house opposite where Landon used to live!

I've only just remembered all that, in fact I've never given it any thought at all until now!

rvi said...

"...in fact I've never given it any thought at all until now!"

Yup, that's the dreaded Marmite syndrome alright! Suggest you imbibe a half a pint of red and have a lie down.