Cleaning out the Frig

       Every Friday morning, I clean out the refrigerator, because that's the day we go to the dump...and, if I'm feeling especially ambitious, I peruse the freezer as well. Don't let anyone ever tell you, by the way (as my mother once did) that you can freeze something and "it will last forever." I label everything that goes in there and there are times when I pull something from the back that even I don't recognize in its current state.  It took me a while, for example, to recognize that a completely frosted over, somewhat grayish lump labelled "ORP" was actually Oven Roasted Potatoes as opposed to, say, Old Rotten Pork.
     Then there are the "special treats" I buy for my grandchildren when they come in the summer...that are still there the following spring: "Buffalo Chicken Tenders," which when thawed and cooked are an even more gross color orange than they were when they were frozen; and "Pizza Bagels," which according to the label are "best by" a date three years in the future. (What is in those things anyhow, that makes them potentially last that long?). And did you know that if you keep popsicles in the freezer for more than a year, they gradually separate into chunks of clear crystal that literally drips some kind of colored slime as soon as you remove the wrapper?
      These are things that as a mother I never experienced, because anything that goes into a refrigerator or freezer in a house with three teenagers is usually gone by the following afternoon. Not only did our kids eat everything in sight, often not knowing exactly what it was, but our house, being centrally located, tended to be a gathering (and eating) place for their friends as well. We started keeping a shopping list on the front of the refrigerator so as not to be accused of forgetting one child's "favorites" over another's. It wasn't long, though, before we began to notice a number of additions in unfamiliar handwriting; i.e., the kids' friends wanted to make sure we didn't forget to buy their favorites as well.
      These days though, it's just the two of us, and when I plunge my head into the refrigerator on Friday morning, I tend to pride myself on how little food we waste, as generally, there is very little to "clean out." I'd like to credit this to our frugal method of grocery shopping or careful meal planning, but the truth is, our lack of waste is more attributable to our children becoming adults and moving out on their own. Gone are the days when we had to alternate the vegetables we served each night so that at least one kid would eat them; nor do we have to remember who has suddenly become a vegetarian, or which kid is now on the "rice diet," or notice when the biology teacher has recently warned his students of the dangers of nitrates in hot dogs.
      In other words, if it's in our refrigerator nowadays, we can probably make some sort of dinner out of it, and with the perfection of microwaves, it's also possible to be serving currently frozen meat a short time later without having to plan hours in advance or run it through the dry cycle in the dishwasher first.
      So what does this have to do with writing, you may ask? (Because after all, this blog is supposed to be me writing about writing, remember?) There are actually more similarities than you might imagine. First of all, the search through the refrigerator for items that need to be thrown out is much like editing a short story or the manuscript of my latest novel. There are some aspects that are just simply no good and need to be completely eliminated, while others, if combined or used more creatively could be even better than they were originally.
      A similar analogy can be extended to the freezer, if you compare it to the computer file I keep of half written stories and novels; i.e., I'm not going to use what's in it right away, but they seem like real possibilities for the future, so I'm making sure they don't go to waste. Of course, as a writer, I also have to recognize what I have stored here won't be good forever, and at some point, I either have to take them out and put them to good use, or toss them altogether to make room for new ingredients.
      And the special treats I buy for my grandchildren (who, I should add, are rapidly becoming teenagers)? You know, the ones they liked last summer but are no longer interested in this year? This is similar to the various competitions a writer enters again, because the first time he/she made the shortlist and the entry money seemed well spent. It is only after you submit again (and once more pay the hefty fee), then receive an immediate rejection notice, that you wonder what you were thinking trying this same thing again.
       Then there's the fact that my children are grown and planning or preparing meals is a lot different than it used to be. What I now place on the table for the two of us is no longer greeted with such encouraging comments as "what's this stuff?" or "Chicken again?" or my personal favorite, "I'm not hungry, I ate at Jen's house." When I was taking courses in college and graduate school, someone (a professor) was always evaluating my work based on his/her subjective view, which if you think about it, is a lot like cooking for teenagers. But now when I write something (just like when I cook dinner) the only critique potentially comes from me...well, or from my husband, who in both cases knows better than to be anything but positive about my "work."
      So is there a moral to the story? A lesson to be learned from the refrigerator analogy? Sort of. As far as food goes, it seems as if I should now buy only what we (my husband and I) want to eat and not worry about what anyone else thinks. Then, when I clean out the frig or the freezer, I should consider whether these items can be combined or recreated effectively, or whether I should just throw them out. And if I decide to buy or make something specifically because I think someone else will like it, I need to be prepared for my efforts to be spurned or ignored completely, but still be happy that I made the effort. Get the connection? Not bad, huh?
      But wait, there's more; there's also the food in the refrigerator that I leave in there, even though I know I probably won't use it (or suspect no one will eat it if I do); or the stuff in the freezer I'm keeping because I'm hoping someone will appreciate my efforts in putting it there or perhaps even creating it in the first place. Yesterday was Friday, so I cleaned out the frig before we went to the dump; but today is Saturday, so I think I'll start working on a new novel. After all, I've got a whole week before I have to think about whether or not to keep what's in the frig.