This is the refrigerator on a pretty good day. For me. Not shown in photo: Wine drips, precariously perched eggs, or crisper drawers that cannot be closed.
It isn't that I don't try. I just don't have a good refrigerator skill set. My modus operandi is to attempt to neatly stack things in logical places. This means meat and cheeses in that bottom drawer, milk in the milk area, eggs over on the left in that egg thingie and of course the wine has a special place all of its own. The freezer has its own issues. Mr. L has noted, repeatedly, and I mean, repeatedly, that when you open our freezer door, all the frozen food comes hurtling forward because I manage to lean it all that direction. And I know, it hurts when something falls on your toe. He has learned to step back when he opens that door. In all honesty, I cannot understand how I manage it. I try to stack flat things on top of other flat things but you know, some things that go into the freezer are lumpy and that cannot be helped.
There is also food that just defies neat stacking. Yesterday, we bought some jumbo artichokes at Costco, which are delicious, but a storage nightmare. Heads of cabbage do not fit into the big vegetable drawer. Must I buy all of my produce in zippered packages?
My solution to all of this is to place blame on the refrigerators themselves. I realize this excuse is wearing thin because during the duration of our marriage we have been through SEVERAL refrigerators, none of them satisfactory. I find fault in them all. I am currently lusting after one of those stainless-steel monsters with the doors that open in the middle and that have the freezer compartment down below. You wouldn't believe how many "win new appliances for your kitchen" contests I have entered. At a party, I will not be the nosy neighbor who snoops in your medicine cabinet, but you can bet I will find an excuse to peek in your 'fridge.
Well. Once more into the breach, dear friends, because I need to find the dang pickle relish.