Time has now murdered the charming, 1970s era refrigerator in my somewhat mustard yellow pied a terre, so I spent most of yesterday and a good chunk of today shopping for replacements. You’d think that wouldn’t be much of an issue. After all, it’s a refrigerator. All it has to do is keep things cold. It doesn’t have to match my shoes or my purse, or–horrors!–the rest of the mustard yellow kitchen.
But… it does have to fit.
There’s a space for it between the cupboard and the wall, and back in the dark ages, when the space was new, it must have seemed enormous.
It’s not quite deep enough for most refrigerators anymore… not if I also want to be able to use the door… and it’s not tall enough for some. (Admittedly, those are shiny space-ship type refrigerators which are mostly out of my refrigerator budget.)
Did I mention it was a balmy 94 degrees here yesterday?
So, a quick trip through local refrigerators turned up nothing. I have specific tastes apparently.
Something that goes in that hole is going to look like a laboratory refrigerator, no question. But will it go in that hole?
The refrigerator is being delivered tomorrow morning. And it doesn’t look too much like a laboratory refrigerator. It’s black. And it doesn’t have a Far Side cartoon scotch taped to the door.