Ice Dam

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We like ice. No, not on roads or sidewalks or cars or power lines. We like ice available to fill our glass of iced tea, to fill an ice bucket, to fill a cooler. We like ice ready at the push of a button. We do not like filling ice trays, twisting ice trays this way and that way, pushing to pop that last cube from the grips of the ice tray. Like I said, we like ice; we want it convenient; we want it ready at all times.

Several years ago, we needed a new refrigerator. Consumer Reports magazine was consulted for the most reliable and energy efficient refrigerator. Samsung was the pick. Imagine our delight when we discovered a Samsung with two ice makers! One located conveniently in a corner of the refrigerator  and one in the freezer drawer.

We were in ice heaven, for a while. . .

The ice maker in the refrigerator section stopped producing ice. It became an ice encrusted ice maker. No ice could drop into the ice receptacle, it was an ice dam. Oh well, we have the ice maker in the freezer. That will fill our needs. It did, for a while . . .

Eventually, both ice makers refused to produce ice. We googled fixes for this issue. They didn’t work. Finally, we had to contact a repair person (of course we were out of the warranty period ūüė¶ ). Several visits and a large check later, we had two working ice makers. We were informed there was a design flaw in the original assembly of the ice maker on top. It should be fixed, now.

Many months go by, we are happy, we have ice, for a while . . .

Currently, the ice maker in the refrigerator will still become encased in ice crystals and the ice will create a dam against the wall. Every couple of weeks, I have to take a sharp object to pry the icy crystals away from the ice maker, jiggle and jar the dammed ice to create a clear path to the receptacle. I don’t know how long this will work, but I hold my breath every time I approach the ice maker. (I know, first world problems.)

That’s a flashlight in the bottom to shed a bit of light on my issue. The ice maker bucket has to be removed in order to check on our ice crystal problem.

 

At the Park

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I sit in the shade watching the action and interaction swirling around me. Most of my attention is focused on one almost three-year old girl. I watch her closely as she runs from one area to another. I follow her as she climbs ladders to twisty slides. I try to hear conversations with other children. This almost three-year old girl, Clara, is my granddaughter and I savor every minute I spend with her.

On this day, we are at a park with many options for play. A sand and water table captured her attention. Another girl brought cups and shovels to use with the water and sandy muck. She willingly shares with Clara. I sit back observing the scene around me. Families fill the park.¬†They don’t know that I am watching closely, saving scenes in my memory for a future slice. Surreptitiously, I bring out my phone to snap a few pictures as fodder for my writing.

 

Many nationalities are represented in this park, which explains why I cannot eavesdrop on conversations, as their native language fills the air. I love the multinational world my granddaughter lives in. My nationality and age make me a minority in this park on this day.

A young family catches my attention. They have come prepared. The wife carries a backpack and I surmise she is a fan of Thirty-One Totes. Daddy appears to be new to this type of outing, Mommy explains procedures, often. There is only one child to corral, but Mommy is lucky Daddy came to help today. It is a tag-team effort to keep track of Landon. Landon runs from one area to the next with a parent in hot pursuit. He runs with his body tilted forward. You just know he’s going to take a header, but he doesn’t. Mommy tries to entice him by spreading out all sorts of sand toys (many look to be brand new from Christmas). The promise of a snack, brings Landon closer to the encampment. He grabs the snack and heads for a small house with a table. Mommy squeezes into the house with Landon. She gingerly sweeps the table of the sand piles, as Landon wants to set his snack down. Snack consumed, he bolts from the house. Daddy must run after him, since Mommy takes some time to extract herself from the house. Toys remain scattered in the sand to be retrieved later.

This encounter makes me aware of how unprepared I was for the park. All I brought was a child and my phone. Next time, maybe I will grab a snack and perhaps a few toys for the sand.

Where Is It?

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Pushing the door to exit Kohls, I step into the sunshine and confusion. “Where did I park my car?

My eyes scanned the rows, looking for some familiar shape. My mind rewinding my arrival to the parking lot. I turned around and looked back at the door I’d just left. Yes, that was the door I entered, which verified I was in the correct area of the parking lot.

The only thing left to do was wander up and down the rows of cars while clicking my key fob, listening for the beep, beep of the car doors unlocking and the flashing of the tail lights. Trying not to look like I lost my car (which I clearly had), I walked with a determined step. At one point, I knew I was too far away from the door, so I crossed over to another row. Clicking, listening, looking for some sign of my car. No luck!

Just when I began to panic (thinking my car was stolen), I remembered I did not drive my usual car. I had taken our other car because my husband was using my usual car to haul away tree clippings. Relief flooded my body! Of course there would be no beep from pressing my key fob.

Now I needed to scan the parking lot for a different car profile.  One quick look did not reveal the car. This car is keyless, so I had to dig deep into my purse for the fob for this car. Once again, I trudged up and down the rows of cars clicking, listening, looking. Once again, panic begins to snake its way throughout my body.

Faintly, I hear a beep respond to my click. One row over, tail lights flash as I try it again. Yes, there it is! Now I remember, I scored a great parking place, the second car in the row, just a few steps away from the door, too bad I didn’t remember that as I left the store fifteen minutes ago.

Duty?

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Five weeks ago, the official envelope arrived. My husband laughed as he handed me that envelope. “Your turn!” he¬† said with glee. It was a summons for jury duty.¬†

My heart dropped. When? Christmas plans didn’t include a visit to the courthouse. Quickly I scanned the summons for the date. Date and time to report : January 8 @8:30. Relief, I didn’t have to alter my travel plans for Christmas. A quick check of my calendar showed I was free until the 12th. No need to ask for a postponement. Now all I have to do is remember to call the day before my report date and don’t lose this paper (I need to bring it with when I report).

January 7, I call to find out if I am needed or excused. (Not going to lie, I was hoping for excused.) The message announced, “All juror numbers 1-400, you will not be needed, you are excused.” My juror number was 572. I continued to listen to the message, “Jurors 401-600, you will report Tuesday, January 9 at 8:30. Call this number after 5:00 on Monday to confirm your status.” Disappointed, I hung up wondering if I was going to have to do this all week long. At least I didn’t have to go on Monday.

On Monday, I continued preparing for my work on Friday. My husband suggested I call at noon to see if the message was posted. I did. “Jurors 401-600, your service is cancelled, thank you.” My heart skipped a beat and a smile erupted on my face. I returned to planning my work day with new vigor.

Someday, I will be called and gladly go to complete my civic duty, but today I’m glad I didn’t have to go.¬†