Keeping in the Cold

Had to remind myself of the variations of re-fridger-ators
I've had and used in these last years to guage my progress
spiritual and otherwise - because of the adage as below as above
and if your fridge is on the blitz your emotional regulators are too.

It's proven down to an exact science.

Arriving here touched down to Judean hills, rented room
there was a small one. Enough to put a pot and a bag of
vegetables and call it a day. Time to downsize.

Moved then to the half a caravan. Had no fridge for the
duration of 4-5 months, in the high heat of the hills
without a way to keep the food cool, spoilage ensued
and a daily run to replenish my perishables.

Then moved to Hebron into the 4th floor apartment
with a rusty old Amcor that gave me a shock to my
core every time it was touched. I painted it green
and used a towel to open it and save myself the dread.

Then to Tzfat where there was no kitchen, only
2 cupboards and a board between, a sink snuck in
a large Whirlpool wheeled in - room to grow sprouts
and for cats to use as a jumping board.

Then to Gedera - no fridge. A freezer found.
It kept dying in the heat. One month or so
without cold food then a rescued small gasless
one located in a bomb shelter - hoisted out by 2
Ethiopian men who scoffed at the 50 shekels I offered.

Then that died.

Then an offer of a free tossed out Tadiran giant.
White and noisy, it had room to spare, took up
the tiny dwelling I rented in the murdered man's house.
It moved with me to Achuzzam where it slowly created
hell on earth by saturating all my food then freezing it.

My vegetables and fruit all encased in crusty ice.

Then water poured over, into the *crisper* drawers.
A flood of malice. Then it would explode in groans
of exasperation, a condensor gone haywire.
The shelves never fit, the light never worked.
The freezer went on and off at whim. My food
a ruin.

Till finally 3 days ago it died. Silently in the night
just gave out its last gutteral sigh and I was left
with rotting food once more. I'd just made the
weekly dash to Beer Sheva to score glatt kosher
meat for my cats and it was on its way into the
garbage.

I went to the warehouse that caters to the poor
and needy - scoped the scape eyes landing on
one white pretty one - with a nice interior.
Man called Aharon said he needed to check it
out just to make sure. I paid anyway. Cheap.

Had to find someone to bring it back. That
was a case of wit catching in itself. Roaming the
roads of Kiryat Gat searching for the one to do
the honor of shlepping. None to be found. An hour
later a real estate office looked serene enough to
venture into and repeat once more *Do you know
of someone who could...* and he did. In short

Aharon affirmed that it worked a slight adjustment.
The men arrived en truck - 2 Russians they maneuvered
and stretched the door to make it fit through and set it
in and now I have 2 rectangles - upright - one works
one doesn't. I am floored by the difference how
this one is to my psyche. Streamlined and somewhat
fancy, I dare not exhale maybe I will upset it and it will
stop. Or sputter. Opening it - there is reassurance by low
drifts of frozen air. Top and bottom. Lights light. No ice.
It loves me.

It has its dents here and there. And if you look close enough
there are rusty specks on the side. But inside. It is like
when I lived in the ghetto and scored a Giorgio Armani
mid-length camel coat.
Unexpected and legit.
Reprieve from the pit.

Thank you.