It isn’t hard for me to be a nerd about things. As a child I used to stand and watch the washing machine fill up. The wrinkles in the clothes that stood above the waterline would slowly saturate from beneath. I would watch the fabric suck up the water so that by the time the water washed over the crest of the wrinkle, the wrinkle had already been wet for some time. Now that you know this about me, it shouldn’t surprise you that I’m extremely excited about the deep freeze we just bought. If you’re familiar with Doctor Who, perhaps you’ll understand why I’ve taken to calling it Grandma’s Tardis. No, it isn’t bigger on the inside. At least, not in the sense that it has more room than the outside indicates that it should. But it can contain more exciting things than you would think it could just by looking at the outside. Both of my grandmas had deep freezes. We never did. Well…not until today, that is. My father’s mother always had blueberries in hers. After all the hugging and hellos it was straight to the freezer where my brothers and I would each grab a Ziploc bag full and start thawing them in our mouths. My mother’s mother kept strawberries in hers and visits to her house followed basically the same pattern. In addition to the expected goodness there were always other surprises in Grandma’s Tardis. Sometimes it was frozen yogurt. Sometimes, when we spent the weekend, a large hunk of beef would come from the freezer and go into the fridge until glorious Sunday when it would be transferred to the crock pot so that we could salivate uncontrollably until supper time.
I want my children to come to love the deep freeze in the same way that I do. I want to make some little cryo-nerds. I’m going to cram that thing full of homemade spaghetti and pizza sauce made with tomatoes from our backyard garden. Squash and zucchini succotash. Strawberries from my son’s little patch. Of course, that depends on a five year old having the self restraint to not eat every berry when it shows the least hint of redness. So…probably no strawberries. But lots of other things. I want opening a deep freeze in my house to be like the nazis’ (notice my lack of capitalization) opening of the Ark of the Covenant on Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark. Except without all the death and burning. Just the light emanating from around the lid and then blasting to the heavens once it is open. Wonder and curiosity about what amazing flavors might be pulled out of the steaming, frost filled little box that shouldn’t be able to contain as much nostalgia as it does. Or, in deference to my man (now woman) Doctor Who, Grandma’s Tardis contains more wonders than The Doctor’s Tardis could ever transport you to in all of time and space.
I bid you Adieu…and A don’t.
Adieu…appreciate the little things in life. Even if those little things are large metal boxes with compressors and Freon and suck up the electricity preserving homegrown and sometimes store-bought goodness.
A don’t…forget to close the lid. I’d hate for all your memories to thaw and spoil and be thrown away along with all the money you’d have to pay for electricity.