Sometimes you fall in love with a house.
Hard.
Maybe it’s the thought of the living history. Maybe it’s the fireplace in every room. Maybe it’s the 200-year-old wide-plank pine floors (*swoon*). In any case, sometimes you fall so completely and wholly in love with a house, that maybe, just maybe, you agree to buy said house without realizing that it has no refrigerator.
Once you’ve promised to buy said house sans refrigeration, you start to wonder maybe why the house lacks a refrigerator. Perhaps because the kitchen is, shall we say, a bit small. Perhaps because the kitchen has approximately just barely enough square footage to accommodate, say, an ADA-compliant bathroom. Perhaps a refrigerator prevents entry or exit from the kitchen.
la petite cuisine
vraiment, c'est une cuisinette....
One can only wonder at these things.
but how could you not love the Mr. Ed door?
Felix enjoys the cabinets from 1961. Also does not seem concerned about lack of refrigeration.
Now, the exact date when Corypheus no longer had a functional kitchen is under dispute. Admittedly, she has a tendency to overstate just a tad for effect. Nevertheless, even though the kitchen was not, in fact, demolished until September 16, she would like to take this moment to point out that she was in fact forbidden from using the kitchen from the time they moved in, as Lucky wanted to sell the new stove, that had been put in by the sellers in a last ditch attempt to sell the place after it sat on the market for over a year, as a New Stove (apparently the seller’s plan had been that the shiny new stove would distract potential buyers from the lack of refrigerator. Damn.)
Shiny
PS The stove was initially listed on Craigslist, which was apparently visited solely by people who enjoyed making many phone calls and offers for pure entertainment value only, and ultimately was instead donated to a shelter for homeless, HIV-infected families in New Jersey whose representative, according to Lucky, resembled Beyoncé.
See? Lucky.