Around the Kitchen Table: Refrigerators & the stories they tell
This time of year, refrigerators take center stage in our kitchens. Whether they are holding an extra case of soft drinks, bottled water or a frosty pitcher of fresh lemonade, our favorite summer appliance gets a lot of use.
We grew up calling it the “icebox” because that’s what Mom and Dad and all my relatives called it. When I went to school and heard the city kids talking about their “refrigerators,” it made me think they had some new-fangled thing us country folks knew nothing about. Turns out, they didn’t know what an icebox was either, so I guess that made us even.
My grandmother had an old wooden icebox on her front porch, but after they got rural electrification in the early 1950s, it was used mostly for storage. When my husband and I married, we inherited his Great-Aunt Lucille’s oak ice box. It was in decent shape, made of solid oak with brass handles and hinges. Even the tin lining was perfect. I pondered what to do with it and finally decided to store a large number of my books inside. It works great, except when I need a book that is on the bottom of the pile.
Just like the gradual move from the icebox to the modern-day fridge, the way we use our kitchens has changed through the years. When I was growing up, it was considered bad manners to open someone else’s fridge, especially if you were a guest. That was tantamount to rifling through someone else’s purse. It just wasn’t done. Nowadays, kids are drawn to the fridge like a magnet, opening at will, perusing the contents like a food critic.
Speaking of magnets, those are a thing now. It wasn’t always so. I remember Mama wiping down the outside of our icebox before company arrived making sure it was spotless. These days that outside surface is hard to see for the multiple magnets, buttons, photos and other stuff plastered on it.
Thinking about the morphing of appliance use, I considered my own habits and how they have changed. I went from being a kid who didn’t dare open someone else’s icebox to a nosey adult who checks out my friend’s fridge to see what they might be hiding. Maturity does awful things to people.
I have also observed how interesting the outside of refrigerators can be, even my own. Without realizing it, we tell others a lot about ourselves by what we attach to that handy surface. Like a photo album reveals what you treasure, your kitchen also tells the story of your people. While what’s inside your refrigerator says something about your preferences, habits and lifestyle, the outside tells others what really matters. I’ve noticed that even my grown children look to see if anything has been added or removed from my messy display. I guess it’s a comfort to see some of the same things month after month, even if they are “out of date.” They will ask, “What happened to the picture of Nannie and Pawpaw?” or “I can’t believe you still have this up here.” Even the grandkids look for their old drawings and notes. It is a family faux pas to remove anything without notice, even though it is my icebox.
But I can’t say anything, I did the same thing to my parents when I went to their house. It was like it was a communal bulletin board and we all had a say (at least we thought we did). Looking at my collection today, I can honestly say that it is a repository of life’s joys and sorrow. It speaks loudly of both, but the sadness doesn’t negate the joy. It helps me appreciate the fragility of life in a keener way. Being aware makes it all the sweeter.
I am reluctant to take down the kindergarten pictures to make way for the prom photos or the child-like scribbles for a certificate of completion. The things I attach there move slowly, only stepping aside to make room for other memories. Accused of being too sentimental, I don’t see the necessity of removing things just because they are “out of date.” I love my eclectic collection of magnets and cartoons that make me laugh even after decades, the photos of family vacations long ago, my favorite one of Mom and Dad at her birthday long ago, the last one we took as a family after church one Sunday, my kids’ and grandkids’ notes they left years ago … all of it adds up to a pretty accurate portrait of our life over the years.
Sometimes I stare at it while waiting for the timer on a pie I’m baking and it makes me thankful we don’t keep our iceboxes spic-and-span anymore. I like the messiness of all that life lived and a handy reminder that life is full of all sorts of moments. I am glad for every one.
If you want to know who lives in a house and what they are like, take a good look at the outside of their icebox next time you visit … and while you’re at it, enjoy your own messy icebox too.
Aunt Doris’ Spicy Cheese Logs
1 16 oz. box Velveeta cheese
1 8 oz. cream cheese
1 cup finely chopped pecans
2 cloves finely chopped garlic
Mix all ingredients by hand. Shape into 4 medium sized logs. Roll in chili powder and wrap in wax paper. Store in refrigerator until ready to use. Serve with crackers.
by Tamra M. Bolton
