LEFT AND RIGHT. OR POSSIBLY WRONG

I’ve been Googling how to reverse which side the doors open on my LG fridge freezer.

This is part of my prep for our new kitchen layout. Our existing kitchen gets ripped out on Tuesday and the fridge is being moved to the opposite wall.

I’ve now watched three YouTube videos. Despite the fact that these are all  ‘how to’ videos, showing men actually reversing doors, they have only convinced me it will be impossible.

There are too many 10mm ratchets and Phillips screwdrivers and rotating fixtures back to front and retucking electronics, while taking care not to be an idiot.

I’m pretty sure I’m just going to turn the entire fridge upsidedown and move it to its new location. Problem solved.

What used to be the LG logo will become an intriguing Arabic script. The freezer will suddenly be on top and the fridge will be on the bottom. The eggs will be all over the place. The crisper trays on opening will cascade capsicum and cos in a waterfall of plenty.

Within a month we’ll buy a new fridge.

If I decide to follow the YouTube clips we’ll have no functioning fridge freezer doors – short of lifting them off with two hands and pushing them back on hoping suction will hold them in place – steaks will thaw and ruin, ice cream will melt, and we’ll buy a new fridge within a week.

In the meantime we’ve spent the weekend packing up our old kitchen – winner: white pepper Use By 2014 – and preparing for life with a caravan kitchen. We’ve kept two of everything, plates, wine glasses, cutlery, a Noah’s Ark, and moved everything else into boxes for Nina The Kitten to rip open and smash in the front bedroom. You can hear her at it all night from upstairs. She can open doors now. She can do anything.

On the bright side the whole house smells like a spice temple and the kitten is the first tortoiseshell to also display turmeric and paprika hues.

The microwave is in the bathroom. The fridge is in the sunroom. The horses are on the track, ready to gallop.

I picked some garden basil this afternoon to make pesto to help us through the tough menu of next week cooking on the BBQ, with no kitchen. Then I realised I’d packed away the pine nuts, somewhere, and the olive oil. We had to go shopping. We won’t have room in our new kitchen for what we bought. What we don’t use we’ll have to feed to the worms.

I remember Robinson’s father in his last years increasingly keen for things to be ordered and predictable and preferably exactly the same as they were yesterday. Change freaked him out.

I’m pretending that’s not happening to me but in my bones I’m yearning for a couch and a corner and a glass of red and a good book (which I’m reading – The Lying Life Of Adults).

And I haven’t even turned the fridge upsidedown yet.

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