Sunday 30 May 2010

The Cold War continues



Faced with a mountain of pork to keep fresh we had no alternative but to buy another fridge. The black hole is no longer a safe place to keep meat as it forms part of the Berner annex. When the partition walls are put in and the doors, then it can go back to being used as a natural cold store, being 50% underground and two sides stone walled, but the money tree is being pruned for fencing and new stock animals so interior design has to wait.
As a number of useful smallholding items have been found on ebay it seemed the obvious place to look. One was found in a local city, GWO clean, best of all cheap and bidding ended today. A quick snipe and the fridge was ours. A strange email arrived. An address and the words, you collect fridge yes?
The address was in an area associated with fridges. Many houses had at least one on the front lawn, often with another broken white good to keep it company. I checked Google maps, it confirmed my fear, the fridge was in a war zone. I would have to be careful. Parking FiFi next to any tall building would invite a fridge to be dropped on the bonnet. But we had bacon to chill so there was nothing for it. We had to cross the lines and sortie into enemy territory. We would not be stopped in our quest for minus temperatures by hoodies with nothing better to do on a Sunday than lob bricks at passing motorists.
I parked outside the house, the coast looked clear, I knocked. The door swung open to reveal a huge bear of a man who would have been even more intimidating had he not looked exactly like Dom Jolly. "You are fridge man, yes?" he said in a heavy accent. The bottle of Vodka on the table an unsubtle clue. Two equally big henchmen in the kitchen eyed me suspiciously.
"Erm...." I stammered
"Its Ok" a spade sized hand patted me on the back propelling me through the front door into the kitchen where another well dressed bear sized man was shutting a briefcase "I show you now" almost carrying me to the patio doors where there stood on the flagstones a small fridge"
Self preservation was kicking in "Wow, its a great fridge, here's some money" I shoved two notes in his hand. He looked nonplussed. "I get change"
"No its OK, keep it, its only pennies" I laughed. It sounded high pitched, terror stricken. He watched me closely as he folded the notes carefully and put them in his jacket pocket. "Very kind for sure" he smiled. I picked up the fridge. It suddenly got very heavy. He pushed it down "Not so fast" I stepped back. This was it. I die. Somehow I have ended up in a house run by the Russian Mafia who lure people to their deaths with promises of cheap kitchen appliances. He stepped around the fridge "First I show you something". One of his henchmen blocked my escape. The Bear opened a door in a brick out house leant in and brought out a huge extension cable. "I have show you it work"
"No its fine I trust you"
"We wait" he said as the fridge hummed. He folded his arms almost splitting the seams on his jacket. He opened the door and tutted. We stood the sunlight silence. He opened the door, his face beamed. "It cold now! See, you have light" he pointed, the henchman and I looked inside, a small bulb glowed apologetically. "Its a good fridge, you like?"
I nodded. "We have four years, its good fridge. Take it" I went to lift it again, he waved me away "The weight is a sign of quality" he grunted as he picked it up and carried it to the front of the house unassisted. They moved a Mercedes off the drive to let FiFi back up and he lifted it into the boot space. "Ha! You have farm!" he pointed to the straw, and other farm yard bits adorning the less than clean interior. We made good our escape as they laughed at the idea of straw in a car.
The new fridge installed we still have seven huge packs in the kitchen freezer, the quest for cheap white goods continues, but we shall be a bit more cautious where we go to get them especially if the internet address ends .ru

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