He was going to head up to the local grocery store in the early hours, before temperatures get beastly, to pick up one thing: Texas Toast. There is a brand of it that we were introduced to in Minnesota by his daughter when we visited her in her new apartment. It comes pre-sliced, heats in the oven for great crispness, and is more moist and garlicky than any current version of garlic bread in a sliced french loaf. Yummmm! While we were still up north he located it in the freezer section at a store we regularly use, and based on that believed we could locate some here. Only, he didn't get up and go.
He could have gone. He was awake early enough. I know because I woke up at 3 AM. After trying fruitlessly to get back to sleep, I decided the only real way to get past the list running through my head of things to be sure to do before the guy installing our oven got here which was keeping me awake was to actually get up and do some of them.
I started working on opening boxes. We had three, though only two were visible as I started, the one for the extra trim piece to match how tall the cabinet hole is, and the shipping box for the wall oven. I started by clearing off the kitchen counter, making room for working on the small trim piece box, leaving a dish towel covering the counter to avoid any possible scratching. The biggest part was the huge copper staples holding cardboard together.
Rich had a tool for that. Yes, he was awake, making room for the installer to get past with his tools when coming in through the carport door, and later, hopefully, for the old oven to get outside since the front door hasn't been dealt with.
I brought the dog's blanket in the kitchen to spread out for the old dirty oven pieces to sit on and get slid across the floor on, a plan to avoid getting the laminate flooring scratched. It's not a sacrifice if the blanket gets damaged, since the dog won't mind more tears. Its earlier incarnation was a kid size quilt Mom made when Steph was a toddler, solid red on the back, cut up chunks of old men's suits on the other, sewn around the edges, and the insides all tied to each other with knots of yellow yarn. For almost 50 years it's been indestructible, kinda.
Then I tackled what turned out to be double boxes for the new stove. First came removing the plastic straps holding everything together, but that happened the day of delivery. Simple enough, already in a landfill. Now came wedging Rich's tool under the staples, working them up and loose and straightened enough to be pried out fairly easily. In the process I realized that this box could come straight up off the bottom base box, since straps had been the only thing besides a mild dose of gravity holding it around the inside box. By then the staples were removed, however, but no biggie. I just needed Rich's help on the opposite side of the box for a straight up lift so stuff wouldn't damage the wall or what was attached to it. After folding that up, Rich took it outside to wait for next recycle day. More chunks of cardboard in various sizes and shapes are still scattered around, awaiting the same treatment.
When the time came to do the second box, I just wasn't into it any more. That was reinforced by the wording on opposite sides of that box stating it could just be cut across, down at the bottom, and lifted off the oven, similar to what had just been done with the outer shipping box. Had I been ambitious enough, I could have cut the bottom on one or two sides, but that would have been a lot of work for somebody whose knees still hate being on the floor. The other two sides were crammed against the sofa and wall, so no joy there. No, I can't slide that pallet over our floor, even if I wanted to risk scratches.
The installer could do it. After all, my instructions never included anything about opening the boxes for him ahead of time, just masks and distancing and stuff, plus where they thought the oven should be before he arrived. (No, even after reading that, I still can't move the thing.) They haven't seen my tiny kitchen, have they? Not only would the oven have left no room in the kitchen for us to get in and prepare food, had it already been there the old one would have had no place to be set once removed. The new one remained boxed and right inside the front door, no further away from the hole it was going into than it might have been in any standard size kitchen. Our installer even agreed with leaving it there.
There were discoveries in the process. First, he located the electric plug in the back wall behind the oven, since even gas ovens need electricity. Lest you think that's only to be expected, may I remind you that the old dishwasher we replaced last spring had actually been hardwired into the house's wiring, no plug and outlet intervening. That installer created a new outlet and plugged the dishwasher in. This one didn't need to do that. So one good thing happened.
The blanket worked so well for the old oven that he asked if we had one for the new one as it got slid around the floor, being also mindful of our desire to end the process with unmarked flooring. My other blankets are fit only for light bedding, being mostly thermal in nature, but I came back with a thick "bath sheet" towel. Perfect! And a nice dark blue in case of any dirt of whatever, something more likely from the floor than the oven. And yes, that area was washed after I returned home for fall. Still....
But the final discovery called a screeching halt to the process. The new oven was too wide for the hole! Yes, both are 24" across the front. Exactly. But that's on the front outside. The inner, hidden part wouldn't slide into the hole. Along both sides are what look like rubber bulges, maybe over screws or something, or maybe just something to help keep the oven stable in distance out all around from the cabinet it sits in. They don't give when pushed and bounce back. They make everything just a bit too wide for the hole. But hey, the vertical part, the measurement we were most concerned with, is just perfect with the trim panel we ordered!
Whoopee.
It's just a bit over an eighth of an inch total that we need to find room for. Ideas? No, rebuilding the cabinet is not an option. Our new countertop fits flush on one side, the wall on the other. But wait.... The wall side is lined with what looks to be, behind the front trim strips (aka veneer) a double thickness of particle board. If those bumps were lined up instead of randomly splotched all over the sides, we could cut out channels where they are and slide it in. Otherwise, maybe just gouge a wide section going back, large enough to encompass all the bumps within it. Or split out the particle board and replace with thinner without wrecking that wall or anything. No biggie, you know.
Uh huh, yeah, sure.
Rich has a friend with maybe the right tool(s) for either option... if he'd just answer his phone, consult with Rich, and loan the tool(s) or come assist. We don't know yet. The installer left with apologies for being prevented from finishing, and gave us the info for being able to come back himself to finish when we had the kitchen ready, since we asked. He already knew the issues. He also had a few strongly felt comments for whoever gives only the outside measurements of their wall mount oven to a buyer without giving internal measurements needed for their particular model, when it's made to replace an old one in an already built space.
Oh wait - it's there in tiny print on the very last page of the book of installation instructions and specifications in however many languages. So helpful. This must be comedy, since timing is everything.
So now: one old oven is in pieces on a blanket clogging the entryway between kitchen and dining space, the wheeled chair for Steve's use while puttering in the kitchen which usually sits there is now displaced into the remaining snug aisle between counters, the new oven sits on a towel blocking the front closet, fortunately hardly ever used, that space mostly allowing access to the front door (as if!!) or living room on the side now to any person who can squeeze through sideways. The recycle sorting boxes usually in a small part of that space have been moved down the hallway to line the wall to the den/library, and the remains of the new stove box, not to be confused with its shipping box, sitting where it was first placed, on a pallet, but bits now sticking out wildly in several directions, making passage between kitchen and living room on that side just a touch more problematic than before it was ripped apart by the installer - not as neat as I am - as well.
Confused? At least you don't have to live here right now! The old oven and empty boxes will go away first. I, at least, can handle the box part, though now I have to remove those copper staples so it's fit for recycling. Cardboard will haunt the carport for nearly two weeks till next pickup. The old oven will go away after getting it curbside and agreeing to pay our garbage company. Fingers crossed on getting that new oven fitted in properly, inexpensively, and without further damage. And let's not mention that front door.
We still have what we had before for cooking - microwave, stove top, outside gas grill, toaster. There might even be a magnifying glass some place for solar food destruction. But Steve didn't go out as planned this morning for his Texas toast. Could he be psychic?
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