The Microwave Project

We've needed a new microwave for a while. Before we purchased the house, the previous owners had updated the kitchen with a new refrigerator, dishwasher, sink, counters, and cabinets. Only our oven/range and microwave were not replaced. So, after the handle broke off and a couple of irritations about cooking/lack of turntable, etc, we decided to go ahead and get a new one. 

Here you can see our ghetto previous model. 

Photo is a bit blurry (these are all from my stupid droid phone camera), but as you can see our handle is fairly screwed up. 

 The first step in the process was to unplug and take out the old, shitty microwave. To prep for potential dropping/unexpected weight of the appliance, I grabbed my (inherited) vintage wine boxes to act as a catch in case my dear, sweet, wonderful husband or I would have lost our grip and dropped it.

I actually wish I had a couple bottles of whatever wine went in these two boxes... I bet they'd have been pretty freaking tasty... Also, those boxes have been decor in my house since before I was born. They came to me about 2 weeks ago as sort of a "Here, we don't want these anymore. You can have them!" gift. 

 As you can see, the microwave came out with not too may problems. Once the three screws were loosened and taken out of the top of the microwave, it was a matter of shimmying it out of its snug home between the cabinets.

Jonathan does not stay still for his photographs. This is a "before" picture of him. He is removing the previous microwave's mounting plate from the wall. 

 There is a significant lack of photgraphy in between this stage and the final stages. Here's a recollection of what happened.
1. Jonathan measured the new microwave's mounting plate and read the instructions telling us where to place the plate. We discovered that our new microwave would be about 2 inches lower than the previous version. I decided this was OK, even though Jonathan reluctantly mentioned that there would be a bit less room between it and the range, and he likes to have more room. It's really not that much difference to me.
2. I ran up and down the basement stairs retrieving various instruments of destruction (drill, hammer, etc.), and allowing my darling sweet husband to retrieve the ones I couldn't find (level... which turns out to be the smallest freaking level I've ever seen).
3. I went back downstairs to get the stud finder... Jonathan at this point is starting to feel a bit worried that studs would not be in the right place for this project, and started to make use of some fairly heated language in reference to the stud finder. Apparently, our trusty stud finder doesn't like to do its job. Something about the walls being made of "god damn plaster" or some such material...
4. After several minutes of Jonathan cursing at the wall, and cursing that this wasn't going to work, and I assume trying to wrap his brain about what the project was going to entail, he decided to say "F it, let's just put the damn mounting plate in."
5. Meanwhile, Puck and I are hiding in the mud room trying to keep out of Jonathan's way as his anger is beginning to reach boiling point now that he has measured and re-measured 16 times, and attempted to locate studs for about 20 minutes. I've learned my lesson after living with Jonathan for the past 4 years that when he is putting something together or working on a project and things don't flow perfectly, it is best to just keep my mouth shut and hide somewhere. Offering help or words of what I'd consider encouragement only prove to make these situations much more tense.
6. We didn't end up having studs available where we needed them, so we needed to use the provided toggle nuts in order to create more stability for the mounting plate. This meant using the drill to make 2 much bigger holes than originally intended. Then, you have to somehow affix your screws to the toggle nuts and push them through the wall, at which point the toggle nuts open back up and create counterbalance for the weight that will be on the other side of the wall. Once this is done, you tighten the screws to secure the mounting plate, and voíla, fake studs. The really fun part during this step was somehow losing one of our screws and going on a frantic hunt to help find it... or find my absolutely perfect husband spontaneously combust before my eyes.
7. Sweet! Now our mounting plate is in. Jonathan climbs to figure out where we have to place the screws to hold the microwave in place in the top of the cabinet. He discovers that he'll have to drill new holes. Because of course we do. At this time, we took a measurement of the depth of our cabinets and compared it to the depth of our new microwave. Commence more swearing and frustration as we know have found that our new, beautiful microwave is about 3" longer than the previous model. In a panic, I call Dad and ask him if he thinks it will be fine. He is reassuring and tells me that 12" is the standard depth for most cabinets and therefore most over-the-range style microwaves are going to have specs that match the majority of cabinets. *WHEW*
8. Jonathan re-measures, double checks the marks, finds that we are A-OK, and drills new holes into the top cabinet. It is now OK for me to re-enter the kitchen and offer my assistance. I hold up the microwave and we get our screws in place. Thankfully, we did not have to drill a new hole for the power cord, or I can assure you that I would have probably been served with divorce papers the next morning.

I took a picture through the door. Because, you know, I'm artistic like that.  

This is the "after" photo of my husband, having turned down the heat to a simmer. What you don't see is him flipping me the bird off camera. 

The finished product all installed and pretty!!

Ta-Daaaa!!

So, thanks to my husband cooling off and being the most rad husband ever, I have a new microwave, and we may or may not be missing a bottle of whiskey...

This whole experience reminded me of a song: