Yesterday morning I reached into the freezer to pull out Joshua's lunch (a Trader Joe's frozen meal, sorry I am failing at my wifely duties here) and it was Not.Frozen. So I put my hand back in the freezer and very gingerly poked a pork chop. Soft.. The whole refrigerator had died overnight. And judging by how thawed the frozen food was, it had died early in the night.

Luckily it was thirty degrees out and with the help of my friends (I highly recommend living on the same exact street, within a block, of 2 of your best friends and your sister in law) we got the food out on the back porch and took all the pictures and magnets off the old fridge.

Then I left for a day of caramel corn making and watching The Business of Being Born (highly recommend that as well) and when I returned after a few more errands, voila! new, nicer fridge and bonus! they had put all the food from the porch back in the fridge.

I can't wait to own a place, but sometimes I am totally thrilled to be a renter.