Fifty-five degrees. Well, that’s not good. The refrigerator should probably be colder than that.
We do not presently have the money for a new one. I slurp my lukewarm milk from my bowl of cereal. I panic.
I go outside, sit down, face to the sun, feet on the ground and quiet down. Then I laughed. Do I not speak for entire weekends about this type of thing? Am I not nicknamed the Farmgirl? At the last show we were at, more people recognized me as the Farmgirl then White Wolf. Have I not read every homesteading and pioneering history book I can get my hands on? Are my ancestors laughing right now? If anyone can handle this, it ought to me. Don’t I pride myself on knowing how live simply and without much electricity? I have been in the city for a year…I’m rusty.
Okay, first things first. Calm down and get another cup of coffee! We are alright!
Two. Defrost the meats in the freezer (before the refrigerator dies completely) and can them. I found some good blog sites on canning hamburger.
I can preserve most things in the fridge and freezer. Cheese doesn’t mind 55 degrees, that is the temperature I aged mine at when we had our little dairy. The milk…not so much.
Invest in a cooler! I wish there were ice trucks still. I wish I had added Ice House to my house hunting criteria! Get ice from the store. Switch to non-dairy milks that do not go off so quickly.
Now from there, perhaps it is an easy fix and it might be worth it to call a repair man? In the meantime, stop panicking and bring out my inner pioneer! We can do this. But, let’s do it before food poisoning tries to take over, shall we?