When we built our new house my wife spared no expense in decking out the gourmet kitchen with high-end appliances, cherry wood cabinetry, granite countertops and all that. But there were two bars (don’t judge us) where she needed an under-counter fridge with an ice-maker. And since Sub-Zero didn’t make one of those, she went with an unknown brand and crossed her fingers.

That didn’t work out so well. Both fridges have been a nightmare from day one. I think we’ve had repairmen out to work on them at least a dozen times. Finally we got them sort of working okay until one day the machine in our downstairs recreation room suddenly stopped making ice and started flashing a useless error code, er, on the display.

Since the machine was well out of warranty and I am, after all, the handyman of the household, I did some googling and tried a few things but nothing seemed to work. And since we were planning to replace both units and just hadn’t gotten around to it yet, I gave up and just swapped ice bins with the other unit from time to time. Easy enough.

That was like two years ago. Yesterday the machine started making ice again. Just like that. And the mysterious error code that I could never get rid of also disappeared. Just like that. And, as of this afternoon, everything is still working fine.

Now, you know me. I’m a pretty logical guy. A troubleshooter by nature. A man of science and reason, as it were. And I have two dusty old diplomas and a lot of repaired stuff around here to prove it. But I cannot for the life of me come up with any sort of electrical or mechanical failure mode that would cause an ice-maker to quit working for so long and suddenly start working again like nothing ever happened.

The only logical explanation is that the machine is haunted.

Had you for a minute there, didn’t I?

Look, I don’t believe in ghosts, demons or any other mystical nonsense. Except of course when I wake up in the middle of the night after watching a horror film, it’s pitch black, and I’m sure I can feel an evil presence that makes the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. But that happens to everyone, right? I mean, it does, doesn’t it?

Anyhow, there must be some sort of logical explanation. Any ideas, I’d love to hear them. In the meantime, we’ve got a little heatwave going here in Silly Valley and I sure am enjoying the fresh ice for my iced teas when I’m working and my margaritas when I’m not. And I’m crossing my fingers and praying to Pagosius, the Greek god of refrigerators, that it stays that way.

Image credit Steve Tobak (haunted fridge … really)