It is a beautiful day up in the Flathead, perfect for Sunday chores. I treated our lawn with weed n’ feed day before yesterday and am thoroughly watering it today. Meanwhile, between relocations of the hose, I am defrosting our freezer. It’s old. It was cheap and it gets the job done, but it builds up frost on the inside to rival the old freezer my parents had back in the 1950’s, when I was a child. I spend a couple of hours coaxing the ice to melt or break away because, one, I’m impatient and don’t want to just let the thing drip, and two, all that dripping makes a bigger mess than I want to clean. So defrosting the freezer is a labor-intensive proposition. That’s okay: much cheaper than replacing the box with something more efficient and big enough to hide the bodies. And while doing this I thought – oddly, I suppose – I bet Henry VIII never had to defrost a freezer. He had minions. He might have used one or two to hide some bodies, but if I remember my history, he never worried too much about killing people in secret. And, besides, there weren’t any freezers in his day, but if they were, ol’ Hennery would not have been caught dead scraping ice off the shelves with his bare fingers. I’m sure of it.
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