I got home from a wonderful dinner with one of my best beloveds on Thursday night to find that Tilly had lit candles in the bottom of the ailing fridge and started a ‘fridgil’ on its behalf. Hoping that this would help, and needing an outlet, given that Jason would not let me hit the fridge with an ‘ammer, I joined in.
Sadly it did not work. We returned all the food to the newly blessed and glorified machine, turned it on and went to bed in the hope that when we awoke all our problems would be solved.
Instead, the fridge had tripped the mains in the night and turned itself off. Again.
I attempted to revive it in the manner of Charlie from Casualty, by shouting ‘Crash!’ and running around throwing switches, but it was to no avail.
I took all the things out of the fridge, resurrected the cool box, and contacted an engineer, who came out last night to tell me that the heating element is buggered, which is why everything keeps freezing up, and then defrosting and pouring water into the electrics and tripping the mains. Apparently it can all be rectified, but not until Tuesday. Until then we must soldier on.
Thank God for the fact that I used to be obsessed by Ray Mears. I can fashion myself a crude fridge out of willow branches and clay from the stream, forage for ice from other people’s freezers, and survive until Tuesday with only a 75% chance of botulism.
Or I could use my obsession with getting a decent amount of credit on my card for when I’m old so I can do a runner, and just rack up more debt putting us up in a hotel with a mini fridge and room service.
Either way, there is a plan.
While all this was going on yesterday, I had failed to notice that the internet was down. This was nearly the straw that broke the camel’s back. I was quite choked when this information came to light. How can you escape from the horrors of reality if virtual reality is closed to you? It’s either excessive internet usage or injecting crack into my eyeballs as far as I’m concerned, and I have no idea where to get drugs anymore. Also, I’m really squeamish about needles.
I nearly despaired.
Ray has never mentioned what to do if your connection to the virtual world is broken. He has no clue about how to make a binary canoe out of raw data, Matrix stylie, so you can navigate your way back into the light of virtual civilisation. His karate is nothing like Neo’s. He might be able to skin and bone a wild pig in under three minutes, but he wouldn’t know a dongle if it bit him on the shin.
I had to turn to The IT Crowd for help with this one.
I turned it all off and on again.
This did not work.
I went and made vast amounts of coffee, like a tiny barista, and brooded.
I turned it all off and on again, with a much more jittery hand.
This did not work.
Guests arrived at this point, so I turned my back on it all until mid-afternoon in the hope that the mislaid prayers for the fridge might work on the internet.
They did. Hence why I am only slightly despairing of technology and not wholly despairing.
We have more guests tonight. The lack of fridge can be navigated via curry and gin, and the trialling of the new Spotify play list I am creating for our holiday next week.
I’m going to light a few more candles, just in case of any other emergencies. I like to think of them as pre-emptive votives.