We like our new house. But we had a series of mini-crises this week, one of which involved fridges.
Fridge number one, provided by the landlord, just froze everything. Frozen milk, frozen yoghurt, frozen broccoli, and frozen coke. Fridge number two had a hideous floral pattern on the door, and Paul had grave doubts about buying it, but none of that mattered, because it never turned up. The shop gave the refund in cash, which was promptly spent on fridge number three, which arrived on Friday.
Number 3 appears perfectly normal on the outside, but it plays “Jingle Bells” if the door stays open too long. And it has a temperature gauge for Winter, Summer and Monsoon, which may not be so appropriate if we take it back to the UK.