Niki arrived just as I finished vacuuming. She walked into the house holding a pan and asked, “Do you have room in your refrigerator for this? It needs to be baked, but not until an hour before we eat.”

Joining my daughter in the kitchen, I explained, “My refrigerator is pretty crowded, but maybe I can move things around, so it will fit.” We spent the next five minutes moving things around on the shelves. Dozens of half empty jars of condiments crowded together on the top shelf with a box of milk, a large bowl of Jello and a bottle of wine.

On the next shelf down were three or four mysterious, long- forgotten boxes of leftovers. I couldn’t remember what was in one of the boxes, so I threw it out. The other boxes looked more recent. It felt wrong to throw them out because they weren’t moldy yet, so I put them back. Closer to the front of that shelf were boxes of newer, still somewhat appealing leftovers. To the far left was another cluster of half-empty jars of relishes, pickles, jars of dried vegetables, fruit, and nuts, as well as chia and flax seeds.

The next shelf down contained two dozen eggs, a rack of ribs waiting to be roasted, a box of fresh vegetables, and a precariously balanced pan of apple crumble. It didn’t look like Niki’s pan would fit. My refrigerator is a cluttered mess even when I’m not hosting a family potluck gathering.

Taking a step back, I shrugged and suggested, “It’s cold enough today that we can use my unheated front porch as a refrigerator for a few hours.”

Managing the contents of a refrigerator is hard to do. Sometimes leftovers get forgotten on the backside of a shelf, in a true case of, out of sight, out of mind. It doesn’t help when the leftovers weren’t enjoyed very much when they were fresh. Another problem is that every family member seems to like different condiments. Every member of the family has an aversion to being the one to not eat the last pickle, olive, or forkful of kimchi.