November 2008 - Housekeeping: A Learned Skill

The first refrigerator, left in my charge, could be described as a walk through a medical laboratory. The green mold, growing on once fresh vegetables, is good for making certain antibiotics, I was once told. Certainly there have never been any mice in my refrigerator, but the laboratory species would have greatly enjoyed the unwrapped crusty cheese and uncapped milk that never saw the lid again after its purchase.

Maybe my refrigerator hang-up is a mechanical one. When first setting up, housekeeping refrigerator shelves were made of thin metal rods or grates that allowed easy spillage. When food or dishes were placed on the shelves one had to be careful or any material would fall through the "cracks." And to remove and replace the refrigerator shelves meant joining the two directly over the pegs, just in the right place, or whoops! It all fell like Humpty Dumpty on a great wall.

Granted, my housekeeping skills do not rank up there with Martha Stewart. Labeling the spice rack is not on my to-do list. Now that I think about it, my spice list was a comfortably small, run-of-the-mill composition. The brief categorization consisted of salt, pepper, garlic, and minced onion. Oh, did I forget to mention, cooking was not a great skill of mine either. One of my first home-cooked meals revolved around boiled meat. The simple recipe thrived on throwing a piece of meat in the skillet and adding water.

No wonder cleaning the refrigerator was such a task, I had to revisit all those home-cooked meals again.

My second home was in Arkansas. Of course, when they could, my parents or mom would visit. On rare occasions my mom would get a gang together and drive to see us from West Virginia. My mom off-handedly offered, during one of these short stays, a cheerful retort, "Your refrigerator is cleaned up." Like it was an event that needed emphasized.. (Joyce finally washed out the ice box.)

Actually, amid my clueless state of mind, I hadn’t realized my refrigerator had been so neglected. It was like you have food between your teeth and no one says a word.

Although my refrigerator cleaning had not improved by then, my cooking had. In Arkansas there were fresh peaches and berries and a mother-in-law close by. In advance of family visitors I would prepare home-made peach pies ready for baking. During this time I also turned my attention to my mother-in-law’s delicious cooking. Under her wing my skills improved. I was very careful in my observations; I didn’t want her to know I had no idea what I was doing in the kitchen.

Over the years, unfortunately, my lack of attention for the refrigerator has not changed. I cleaned it yesterday, top to bottom, only because once starting the project I didn’t want to stop until it was finished.

These days refrigerators have glass shelves, much easier to wash. Also, my ice box is a side-by-side. On the freezer side, I pulled out the bottom plastic box and just cannot get it back on the hooks or whatever it hangs on. Several hours have been devoted to the cause, so I let it rest on the bottom of the freezer.

My excuse for not being a faithful refrigerator washer is the mechanics. What I take out I can’t get back in. A pan of potatoes ready for peeling beats a dirty refrigerator ready for cleaning any day, regardless what state it’s in.