Husband likes projects. He doesn't sit still all that well. Neither of us do. Constantly, he is moving and working on something. Recently, he picked up brewing beer. It's a developing hobby and something that I find entertaining to watch.
In brewing beer, supplies are needed. A big jug, a little jug, beakers, stirring plates- the kitchen turns into the lair of a mad scientist and his nerdy-ness comes to light. As he cooks, the house starts to smell like an old bakery as the yeast does what it does.
About a week ago, Husband was playing on the computer and started laughing.
"What's so funny?" I ask, thinking there would be a conversation about Facebook in our immediate future.
"I bought a freezer."
"I bought a freezer."
"Off of Craigslist?"
"You bought a freezer off of eBay? Is it local?"
"Oh...." I pause.
"Why'd you buy a freezer?"
"So I can convert it a refrigerator and store my beer in it."
"Why didn't you just buy a fridge?"
"Because they were too expensive."
"More expensive than a freezer?"
"A deep freezer."
"More expensive than a deep freezer?"
In life, I have learned- don't question too far when it comes to Husband and his projects. A few days after Leenie was home from the hospital, he drove to Savannah or Atlanta or somewhere other than the neighborhood baby superstore to pick up a boat motor for the boat he was building. Brother still brings this up- almost six years later. Whenever Husband comes into question with Brother, Brother is quick to say, "Yeah- he did drive to wherever to pick up a boat motor."
It's his retort to most anything.
So, Husband bought a deep freezer off of eBay in Columbia, SC to convert it to a fridge and store his homemade beer in it.
In the basement.
I look outside at our mini freezer that holds duck breasts and ask him why he can't convert the perfectly good freezer we already have into a fridge.
The four duck breasts in the freezer are safe for another day.
Three days ago, Husband comes up from the basement (another project) around 3-ish and says, "I'm heading to Columbia to get the freezer. I'll be back around 5." A kiss and he is gone.
4:45 I get a phone call from Husband.
"Hey- I bought the freezer."
This was going somewhere. I was no fool. I just needed to wait and see where it would go.
Turns out, he was not going to Columbia, rather West Columbia- which isn't West of Columbia, rather East. In West Columbia, there is a trailer park where Chet lives.
Chet has a 4 month old- this is his sixth child from his fourth "old gal" in the same trailer in the same trailer park in West Columbia. It made me wonder why polygamy is illegal.
Chet swings open his door and steps out.
I like to picture him fat and hairy- something like a retired carney. Rather, he was a slim jim- chewing on a plug of something. Husband didn't think it was tobacco.
They walk around behind the trailer to his "garage" ... his "barn" ... his "storage building" ... his place where he hoards.
Actually, I'm exaggerating. Chet had a building behind his trailer that held used restaurant equipment. He makes his money by going to auctions when restaurants close and buys the equipment. He breaks up the set, turns around and sells them off in pieces.
Pause for a moment and let this statement sink in.
Husband is buying a deep freezer. From a guy who buys restaurant equipment. Thus- Husband is buying a restaurant deep freezer.
Chet and Husband got to talking- Husband never meets a stranger- and Chet started telling him about this idea he had to make his millions and retire.
"I want to build a website where you can auction off restaurant equipment."
"You mean... like eBay? Like where you sold this freezer, Chet?" thought Husband. He elected to phrase it a little better.
"Like eBay?" he said, instead.
"Hunh. Yeah, I'd guess it'd be a lot like eBay. Maybe I could set up a website where you could post things for people to buy locally? That might work instead."
"Like... Craigslist?" though Husband, but elected instead to nod his head and smile.
"That could work," He said.
Chet and Husband loaded the industrial sized restaurant grade deep freezer from Krispy Kreme that closed on 58 into Husband's truck and off he went down the interstate bringing it home. Upon his arrival, he unloads the beast and rolls it into the garage.
It won't fit.
It literally won't fit in the garage.
We have an industrial sized restaurant freezer from the Krispy Kreme that closed on Hwy 58 that won't fit into our garage.
It's okay though, it's not going in our garage. It's going in our basement.
-- -- -- --
"Honey, how are you going to get it into the basement?" envisioning the doors and steps that this thing is going to have to navigate.
"Through the window that we got the rug out of."
If I have faith in one person- it is Husband. Square peg-- round hole? He'll make it work.