The Appliance of Family Museum And Art Gallery

Turns out the new refrigerator won't be here until tomorrow which is a very good thing. Owen won't be here tomorrow and I'll be able to concentrate on the task.
Plus, Lis is here and I need her help. See all that stuff on my refrigerator? What do I do with it all? The refrigerator has become more of a museum, a time capsule, an archaeological site for the history of our family than it should be. And Lis's refrigerator is a stunning example of less-is-more and of restraint and good taste. I am hoping that she can guide me in her sweet way to a more tasteful kitchen appliance of my own.
That she will take me by the hand and help me to toss what I should toss, put away what I should put away and keep what I should keep.
This is my hope.

And all of this is making me remember the time I moved from one house to another and lost two hits of acid somehow in the move. I always wonder what happened to that acid. At least I won't have that worry this time. As far as I know there is no LSD in my freezer. Some fish that I'm not sure which century it was caught in. Some veggie burgers which have more freezer-burn content than soy content. I might throw those things away.
On purpose.

I need to be ruthless, inside and out, when the new refrigerator comes.
Lis will help me. I know she will.
Also? She brought rum. That won't hurt either.

Wish me luck.