By the way, I forgot to mention my near death experience. I'll wait while you grab a Kleenex. So we were walking out the door for our holiday weekend, and we noticed rabbit poop ice machine was under the weather~some sort of anal seepage. We handed it a bowl to throw-up in and told it to watch TV until we got back. When we returned, it was pale and listless, so Ster started guttin' it like a fish. I couldn't watch~my maternal instincts are too strong. I turned away and bit my knuckle.
Long story short, imagine ice machine on a gurney, paddles connected, the shout of "CLEAR" and voltage coursing through it's wires as we tried desperately to save its life. The beep on the monitor quickens momentarily...then slows...then all is silent except for quiet weeping in the corner. The Priest crosses himself and everything goes dark as I pass out cold on the floor.
When I came to, the repairman was just finishing up and I was writing him a hefty check, generous tip included, for "unsticking a gear." I gave him a puffy eyed smile as we embraced and I held his face in my hands.
Waving goodbye, I went in and put my ear to the belly of the door...just making sure it was still breathing. Once again, that maternal instinct.
We nearly lost him, folks. And I shall never again take for granted the giving soul that is...Ice Machine.
Bless it's frigid cold, pellet shaped heart.
May it beat forever to the hum of unstuck gears.