Monday, December 29, 2008


My nose is returned to the grindstone, somewhat put out of joint, however. When I got home last night, there was the most terrible niff. The house stank of fridge/freezer motor death throes.

Having sat on a train for hours, including waiting three hours in Lille as the connections were so crap and half an hour in the train at Lyon because of a crossing problem, I crawled in at 8.45pm and nearly passed out with the blast of pong.

This morning, my worst fears were realised - my American fridge/freezer is dead, and the contents soon will be too. It's funny how these things happen when you go away.

It means a trip to Darty this evening, to buy a new one, which probably won't be delivered until the end of the week at the earliest, thus missing two major meal moments on Dec 31 and Jan 1. Anyone for a tinned ravioli sarnie?

What is really bizarre is that I had the impression someone had been in my house. If this is the case, sabotaging the fridge would be a strange way of leaving a visiting card. It had been pulled out and pushed in again, so the muck that had been dragged out was left behind, and I'm pretty sure the cat is not to blame...

Ghosts do you think? Ectoplasm? Ex-boyfriend who made a copy of the key before he gave it back...

But why move the fridge...?

All suggestions gratefully received, answers on a postcard, please.

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