We had quite an interesting morning to say the least. I suppose I can thank the super sensitive preggo nose for saving the day. I woke up to a burnt smell and when I nudged James to ask if he smelled it too, he lifted his head for a second, didn't smell anything, then went back to dreamland. Well, a few minutes later, it seemed like the smell was even stronger, so I convinced him to get up and check it out -- I know, make the husband do the dirty work, ha. Well, sure enough, it was something serious. Our kitchen was in a cloud of smoke and the smell was definitely strong! I got up to help try and figure it out, but neither of us could find the culprit. James went up to the attic to see if he could see something up there, yet there was no sign of any trouble. Obviously, we were in a daze from being half asleep, but I started to wonder if we should call the fire department. There was smoke and a strong smell, but no obvious cause -- not very comforting! Finally, while standing in the kitchen and trying figure out what on earth could be causing this, I heard a zapping noise coming from the bottom of the fridge. Sure enough, the fridge was on the verge of snapping. We immediately unplugged it and transferred what we could to our chest freezer and the rest to coolers in hopes that we could get the fridge fixed before anything goes bad.
I've come to the conclusion that fridges hate us. While we were in WA, our fridge crapped out on us so we rushed out to buy a chest freezer to salvage our food. (I'm sure thankful we have that now after dealing with this a second time!) During that whole saga, we went through 3 fridges before getting one that worked without issue -- talk about a headache! Then we move here and our fridge tries to possibly catch the house on fire. Seriously???
I'm glad we figured it out when we did, though! I just kept thinking how thankful I was that James was actually home that morning due to our Atlanta appointment. Had it been any other day, he would've been at work and I sure would've been nervous about pulling out the fridge myself with being preggo and high risk. That thing is heavy!
Even though the smell had dissipated for the most part by the time we needed to head out (and it showed no signs of causing more problems) for Atlanta, I was still super paranoid about leaving Oba alone in the house with a busted fridge. The poor basset.
After dealing with it all, I immediately emailed my landlord (they're stationed in Italy so that's the best form of contact) and literally stared at my phone all day as if staring at it was going to get a response that much sooner. I knew they had a warranty on the fridge, but I didn't have the contact information for the company so we would have to wait to hear back from our landlord to get this taken care of.
In the end, staring at my phone got me no where. But by Sat. morning, she responded and the warranty company was out later that day and worked their magic. As it turned out, the relay in the fridge was bad. Apparently this is common? After replacing the busted relay, our fridge was back to normal. Thank God!
I'm just about done with fridges crapping out on us. I hope this is the last of such issues -- at least until the next house...