In The Fridge

Who knew what an archaeological dig a refrigerator can become! Gazing at the contents this morning revealed all sorts of interesting information:

* I have enough butter to last through the end of next year. Paula Deen would be so proud!

* How long have those two bottles of tonic water been sitting there? I think the last time we had a G&T must have been last July.

* Who bought that Reddi Wip, and -- more intriguingly -- for what purpose, exactly?

* How many capers does the average family really need?

* Ditto on the cornichons.

My fridge is tottering on its last legs. It is almost fifteen years old now, the doors are starting to sport rust spots, and the ice maker only works when it's in the mood. Also, if you stow anything on the left hand side of the top shelf, it will become a frozen solid block within an hour or two.

Last summer, we had a pool party, and one of our guests very kindly brought a gift of some English ginger beer. Unbeknown to me, they stuck the bottles on the top shelf (left). The following day, as I was working at my desk, I heard what sounded like gunshots. When I investigated, I discovered the ginger beer bottles had exploded, and the interior of the fridge was thoroughly coated in a very sticky, drippy, sharp-sharded mess. Not pretty. Not pretty at all.