On ice.
2.2.10
The inside of an icebox tells a lot about a person.
Think about it. The bookcase may say, “Great cook, poetry reader.” The appliance contents may instead say, “I live on TV dinners and am not sensitive to mold.”
When a friend traveling in Arkansas over the holidays sent me a photo of the inside of the cabin’s icebox, I didn’t ask “why?” Instead I solicited friends to send similar photos for an album of “Icebox Art.” One sent me a saucy photo of all the hot sauce bottles arranged together in her icebox. Others willingly participated but offered excuses for the state of their icebox.
What is in your icebox? What does it say about your life?
I have enough OCD to ensure a tidy icebox. Countless times I asked Joel, “Do you really need 5 jars of pickles?” Now my icebox answers, “the pickle, olive, canned tuna fish, celery loving fellow no longer resides here.”
