How Not to Deliver a Fridge

I’m hard to annoy lately. Most times I just let stuff go after a minute. But dang, it’s so irritating to watch people making mistake after mistake and not being able to stop it. But I do now have a little refrigerator in the tack room!

Rustic, ain’t it?

So, Lowes finally told me I could have the one I wanted if black was ok. Of course. Who cares? They were to deliver it today. I was concerned, since we got another welcome inch of rain, so it’s wet here.

Muddy but bigger! Go pond!

They called after the rain stopped and I went out to direct them to the little red barn. The truck showed up, and to my surprise they drove down the driveway about as fast as you’d drive down a paved road. I was concerned, but got them to stop. I told them to turn right at the tractor and go to the red barn.

Zoom! They didn’t spin out, but they turned wide and went through the deep puddles, leaving fine ruts. I watched, assuming they’d go to the end of the drive and stop.

They did not stop, as you can see.

Instead, they suddenly veered left until they got to the back of the barn, veered left again, slammed on the brakes, then gunned the engine to back it up perpendicular to the barn. Uh. Okay. Just give me a fridge.

I went to open the doors, which now work right since my son and I shimmed the stairs with a rock. I turned around and there was a dude carrying the fridge in his arms. They didn’t need a dolly. They could have stopped at the end of the driveway. the dude proceeded to dump it on the floor and started to leave.

I asked if he was going to open it. That surprised him, but he did it. After taking a bunch of pictures (not sure why) the driver made me sign for the delivery with a bright pink pen. No problem. I set myself to plugging my new buddy in and rearranging stuff.

It blends in. Yes all my ribbons are on the desk. I keep forgetting to bring string to hang them on.

I finished pulling all the tape off the doors and realized I could still hear the delivery truck. I went out. Shoot. For reasons only known to Hot Rod Harry, the driver, he’d backed up to over by the chickens, slammed on the brakes (I heard it) and tried to rush out.

Yep. They were stuck. ON OUR SEPTIC FIELD. They were trying to use our fence poles for traction. I said to just stop. I’d get help. Hot Rod got out and took more pictures.


The tractor pulled them out after they received a bit of a cursing out for driving so wrong for the conditions and not paying any attention to where they were. Hot Rod took MORE photos.

We concluded they were city folks. No one drives fast on wet ground, especially on someone else’s property. I hope the photos can prove why he was late to wherever he was in such a hurry to go.

Time for a deep breath and send kind thoughts to those guys. Hope they made it home.

I think they caused damage more than the refrigerator is worth. Oh well. I have tiny ice cubes making in my tiny freezer and sparkling water cooling off.

something poetic

(formerly The Lost Kerryman)

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