Mowing Postponed

My plans to mow yesterday pretty went much kaput in a whirl of exitement and chaos.  The day before, I had ordered a new refrigerator, the old one being thirty years old and failing.  "And when will that be delivered?"  "Either tomorrow or Sunday, but if it's tomorrow, we'll call you tonight."  (They didn't call.)  On the way home from Martell, I stopped at Mt. Aukum and ordered feed and alfalfa.  "And when will that be delivered?"  "Either Wednesday or Thursday."  Planning ahead, I did go through the refrigerator and clean out jars of desiccated olives, bottles with a quarter-inch of salad dressing, and the container of strawberry cream cheese that had hidden in a small dark corner long past its "use by" date.  (Deb and Larry still tease me about the carrots they found that could be tied in knots.)  It's not like I could put everything in boxes and leave the fridge and freezer empty for five or six days. 

Down in the goat barn, I lined out my mowing schedule.  First, the south yard and under the clothes line...take a break, hang the washing, and then on to the west field and front yard.  I had just hauled up the milk buckets when the phone rang.  It was the delivery guys with the refrigerator.  "We're on our way."  Well, alrightie then.  I still had the milk to strain and cool before I could start taking stuff from the fridge.  The phone rang.  It was Patrick from Mt. Aukum.  "I'm on my way."  Okey dokey.  Of course, the two trucks arrived within minutes of each other, while I was frantically tossing food into bags and filling up counters.  Bless Patrick's heart, while I was busy in the house, he not only unloaded the feed, he opened the bags and filled the bins where I keep the chicken scratch and pellets. 

About the refrigerator.  I had carefully measured to make sure the new one would fit in the old space and that the doors would open without hitting the island.  It does and they do; however, I did not anticipate that the new one would be quite so big.  It's about six inches taller, wider and deeper, and I shall name it Moby Dick.  It has an additional feature which I've not had before, an ice maker.  As Bessie Anne and I were watching television in the evening, we both jumped out of our skins when there was a crash in the kitchen, followed by a death-rattle gurgle.  Moby had gotten cold enough to start making ice.  Numerous times last night, Bessie would sleepily go "bwfff, bwfff" to let me know Moby was on duty.  I think we'll get used to it.