And a Red Cat
Being homeless is a constantly-learning experience. In the above picture, towards the left is what my built-in microwave looked like. Yes, looked like, past tense. It gave up the ghost, giving me the opportunity to learn, once again. And buy more tools.
An exact replacement was available online, for around $350. Three hundred and fifty dollars, plus shipping from Texas, for an 800 watt, .8 cubic foot “Magic Chef” microwave. “Magic Chef” sounds like a plastic kitchen tool sold through late-night infomercials. Time for plan B.
With Janice’s knowledge of the stores in Savannah and after visits to Lowes, Home Depot and Wal-Mart with the required dimensions to fit inside the existing Trim Kit to make the microwave look built-in, but also to secure it in place so that it’s not shattered and halfway through the trailer floor when I arrive at the next destination, I discovered that not all microwaves are created equal. I couldn’t find an exact fit.
Plan C was to find a microwave that would fit in the shelf, but not inside the Trim Kit, then order a Trim Kit designed specifically for that brand of microwave. Easily do-able, I found, as long as I was willing to invest in a top-of-the-line stainless steel microwave / convection oven that cost more than a month’s site rental, full hook-up, water, electric and sewer. And internet. Then, the Trim Kit for said appliance of the rich-and-famous was enough to keep me in ‘disposable’, $50 Wal-Mart microwaves for the rest of my natural-born days.
Enter Target and Plan D. Target had a red microwave, on sale, that jumped out at me. A RED microwave, it was perfect. The best coffee maker I ever owned was made of bright yellow plastic. If you weren’t awake in the morning before making the coffee, you certainly were after staring at the contrast of black counter-top and bright yellow coffee maker. Everyone who saw it commented how awful it was. I loved it. I had the exact same warm fuzzy feeling when I saw this red microwave.
And it would fit. Sort of. Nearly. Hopefully. With the help of a drill. And a specialty screwdriver. And the feet from the previous microwave. And a prayer. Other than that, though, it was perfect.
There are metal bands attached to the Trim Kit and to the back of the microwave to keep it in place. It’s an upgrade! A whopping nine-hundred watts and point nine cubic feet. I could host Thanksgiving.
Now, if only I had my yellow coffee maker.
Poor Tupelo. What a waif.
After a glorious week of being the only cat on the island at Fort McAllister and having his run of the place, untethered, we arrived back ‘home’, at Pine Lake in Bishop, Georgia. I let him out. Instead of exploring the immediate area and then expanding his empire in ever-increasing circles around trailer, the fool takes off in a straight line, down an embankment and into a camp ‘construction’ area.
I lost sight of him for a little but found him soon, sitting on top of a wood pile. I looked at him a few minutes later and he was not alone on top of the wood pile, with a black, probably-feral, definitely front-clawed tomcat who saw the inexperienced Tupelo as a threat. The tom was between the camper and Tupelo.
I scrambled noisily down the embankment, headed for the wood pile. The tom took off in the opposite direction and Tupelo bolted for the trailer. Since then, he has been on his harness and is none too happy.
Confined to barracks, but safe.