Our microwave has been on a slow decline for months. It runs but doesn’t actually heat the food some percent of the time with that percent increasing week to week. Until it started running continuously when we closed the door. So it is time to replace it; we shut the electricity off and ordered a new one, which didn’t go well, but that’s another story requiring wine or some other pain-reducing libation.

The previous owners installed an updated kitchen years ago – in its day it was beautiful and it has held up well.

Last year the dishwasher went and Jon spent many hours of his life trying to repair the one we had with my handy, fix-it-if-you-can brother. They got it going for a time but when it pooped out again we called a plumber to come and install a new one. The microwave – we are on round one. Jon is trying to install it.

I am tempted to put a time capsule in the enclosed cabinet ends – the bits that aren’t accessible until you pull out the microwave. I wonder how long it will be before someone opens it up. 10 years? 5?

We’ll go to round 2 tomorrow evening after Jon returns from his shift at the hospital or the following morning if he can’t find the will to face it. The new microwave has different installation specs (of course it does) from the last one. But even with that understood, everything here is so custom that no project goes easily. Every electrician and plumber that’s come in here has been challenged by some boomerang the house throws, spending hours over budget to figure out how to make something work – and even with that added investment and effort sometimes things don’t work out as planned.

Welcome to Miller Hill Farm.

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