F is for Fridges on the Fritz
Here's what really happened on Sunday morning: I came into the kitchen and made banana pancakes like I do most Sundays. I grabbed the eggs and the milk, not noticing anything was wrong. We happily ate our pancakes. Sometime afterwards, my two year-old opened the freezer (looking for a popsicle, no doubt) and to discover that they were all melted. Well with a two year old in the house who tries to help himself, my first thought was that the freezer didn't get closed properly the night before. I cleaned out the freezer, taking stock in what I could still salvage and what would have to be eaten within the week.
Among the defrosted was a roll of chocolate chip cookie dough, sheets of puff pastry, homemade apple pie filling, and whole cranberries left over from Thanksgiving. I baked off the cookies and decided to combine the apples and cranberries into a dessert. If I was going to be cleaning out the freezer, I might as well have a reward waiting for me when I finished!
Later in the day, I realized our refrigerator was no longer feeling cool, and things were probably going to have to move again. My husband confirmed my suspicions and got to finding a repairman. Since I now had a fridge full of food, I got to finding ways to make sure the food didn't go bad. My mom offered to let me take up space in their fridge for the perishables and loaned us a few coolers for the essentials. To thank her, I brought her a tray of cranberry-apple turnovers.
F is for Father's Day
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