Things that Keep You Awake at Night

I thought that coming back from Haiti would mean peaceful nights.  The nearest hospital is 10 miles away, and no one near us is expecting a baby any time soon.

This peaceful night was shattered at 4:00 am by a tremendous squawking and howling from the back yard.  Some animal was surely dying in the teeth of another.  We were witnessing the food chain right here in our own suburban back yard.  It took us a few seconds to identify the lower half of this food chain...

Chickens.

I never knew a chicken could howl like that.  It was creepy.

I leaped out of bed and ran outside, grabbing a flashlight along the way.  Reaching the chicken coop, I pointed the flashlight inside, expecting carnage and some slavering, saber-toothed monster growling at me.  Instead, most of the chickens were milling about the roost area, one of them was in a nest box leaping up and down like it was doing jumping jacks.  There appeared to be no other animal, just a few very agitated hens.

Shining the light downward to the ground, I spotted a small patch of light gray fur.  Opossum.  Then the opossum moved into the light a little more and the small patch of light gray fur became a light stripe on a black body.  His little beady eyes shone in the light as he looked at me.

Skunk.  Just a little one.

I backed away.  Even little ones are considered armed and dangerous.

I had very little in my arsenal.  I cast about for something to coax the skunk to go away.  I soon spotted some ammunition.  Pears.  I was standing next to one of the pear trees and most of the pears had fallen to the ground, having ripened about a week ago.

From a distance, I started lobbing overripe pears at the skunk.  It dug its way under the wall of the coop, since my first pear had hit the door and slammed it shut.  Then it ambled slowly to the other side of the fenced area, looking back occasionally, and disappeared.  I lobbed a few more pears in the general direction just to make sure.

The chickens had calmed to a point where I could finally take a count.  Apparently, flying pears are not as traumatic as a little skunk.  12 legs, divide by two, equals six chickens.  All present and accounted for.  The skunk must have been after the eggs which no one collected yesterday.

Who needs an alarm clock with such drama in the back yard?

Thursday, September 5

I only took three pictures today, two of them being pictures of rocks.  David and I spent the day in the hospital again, finishing up the lighting in the maternity waiting room, the pediatrics room and then moving on into the Family Clinic.

The Family Clinic was a very small room with a desk and 8 chairs for waiting people.  Two very small closets formed an office and an examination room.  The waiting room was lit by only a single bulb so we hung two fluorescent fixtures from the ceiling.

Rewiring a small room when it is in use can be an interesting experience.  It's hard to ask someone to move from their seat when the only word you know is "bonjour".  We did figure out how to get someone to move, however.  It's really quite simple and very effective.  Just start dropping things on them from above.  I removed a screw from a light socket and fumbled, dropping the screw on the woman right next to where I was working.  I apologized as best as I could (I'm sure she didn't understand me), and she moved towards the front where David was working.

David was installing a blank plate over an empty electrical box and fumbled it, dropping it onto the same woman's lap.  I'm not sure he even tried to apologize.

Another way to get people to move is with heat.  Especially on a warm day.  We had to bend some rigid plastic conduit with a conduit bender, basically a box with a big heater in it to soften the plastic.  The only place to plug it in was in the front of the room.  When I opened the box to insert the conduit, the waves of heat pouring out caused the nearby people to scatter rather rapidly.  Several people chose to wait outside.

We completed the job, in spite of having to work around people in close quarters, and hope that the improved lighting will be of benefit to those who use the clinic.

David and I stopped up at the Mountain Maid for a break in the afternoon.  This is a self-help gift shop and restaurant administered by the mission but run by the Haitians that offers jobs to the locals.  The restaurant is an open-air building that offers a commanding view of the ravine and the mountains on the other side.  Many parts of Haiti are very barren because of deforestation, but this area is lush and green because of the practice of terracing.  It really was a beautiful setting.  One of the missionaries said she never tires of the view because it is always changing as crops grow and are harvested.  It's an always changing patchwork.

 
The picture doesn't do it justice because of the mist of the day, but I would tend to agree.

Rocks

Haiti has a lot of rocks.  In some ways that's a good thing because there is plenty of material to build walls when creating terraces on this steep terrain.  And in this part of Haiti, many people have done so.  There are many stone walls used in the formation of the many terraces around this area.  Walls are made of rocks, roads are largely made of rocks, the hillsides are rocks, houses are made of rocks (and concrete).  Rocks are everywhere.  So they have a lot of building material.  If Haiti could export rocks, they would have an endless supply.

In other ways, all these rocks are a bad thing because even the good soil is full of rocks.  I thought the soil in one of my gardens at home was poor soil until I came here.  The pictures below are of one of the gardens on the mission campus, and this is considered good soil.

If you want rocks, I know where you can get a whole bunch of them.

The Ride to Greffin

Just after lunch today, Trey came by and said now would be a good time to try to locate Abigail's sponsored child.  He added the disclaimer that, when school is not in session, some of these kids can be hard to find, because they don't have addresses, and they often go to relatives or grandparents during the summer.

We crowded into the 4-wheel-drive along with Jean-Bernard, who would serve as a translator and was also described as the "best bloodhound" they have.

To say that the road to Greffin was bad would be a serious understatement.  After getting out of Fermathe, the pavement ended and what was left was just a path of large rocks, barely one lane wide.  We were jostled about the vehicle continuously, and probably the only reason we did not receive any injuries was because we were packed in so tightly.  Abigail sat in the middle by the gearshift and Deb, David and Jean-Bernard were packed in the back seat.  On the way back we remarked that, as we got farther out in to the mountains, the road behind us seemed progressively better because the road ahead got progressively worse.

After nearly an hour of this, Jean-Bernard told us to stop because he was going to ask the locals where Marianna's family lived.  After a few minutes, he re-appeared with another Haitian who thought he knew the family.  I'm not sure how they communicated this because the Haitian was deaf.  Jean-Bernard hopped back in, and the Haitian also hopped in and we went back the way we came for a short distance.  

After a few more turns, another halt was called, as the house to the right may be where she lived.  We all piled out of the vehicle and were surrounded by a growing crowd of Haitians.  After some excited talk in Creole, one of the children pointed back up the hill.  This was not the house, but she lived up that way. Back in the vehicle, back up the hill we had just come down, and a short distance later, we passed by a couple of kids walking down the road.  One of them was a little girl who, when asked her name, said "Marianna."  We found her along the road.  We later on found out that there was news that a vehicle (a rarity in this area) full of white people (even rarer) was coming looking for Marianna.  News travels fast in these parts.

We parked the truck near the foot path leading to her family's house.  Marianna's father and mother appeared, along with about a dozen other people.

We followed them down the narrow foot path to their house, a simple block house about 200 feet from the road.  Corn was drying on blankets on the ground, and the small field next to their home had small plants that I was not able to identify.

On their porch, we exchanged formal greetings and asked a few questions through the translator, then Abigail gave Marianna a backpack with a few gifts.  We had also purchased a box of rice and beans which we left with them  Twenty bucks to feed this family for about a month.

We asked them about taking a few pictures and they were fine with that.  Both mama and papa disappeared into the house and emerged a few minutes later with different clothing on.  They had to look their best for the picture.

We learned that one of Marianna's favorite subjects in school is math, which is one of Abigail's least favorite.  Marianna helps her mother in the house and also helps carry water up from the stream about a mile away.

We told them we would send them some of the pictures we took. Before we left we linked hands in prayer, two families from two different cultures and two different countries, praying to the God we have in common.  How cool is that?

Answered prayer and miracles do happen, and this was one example.  To have found her so quickly in so remote an area could only be a God thing.

The ride back was no less difficult, but Abigail (and us) now had vivid pictures in her mind and in her experience of what life for Marianna was like because she witnessed a small piece of it, in person. She told us that all that work selling tomatoes and goods that she sewed to earn money for Marianna's sponsorship was now worth it.

I think so to.

There are over 60,000 kids in Haiti just like Marianna that could benefit from a sponsor. Do check it out at www.bhm.org.

Lighting Up the Place

The job-du-jour for David and I was to finish what we had started yesterday in the pediatric ward and possibly move to maternity if we had time.  We had already installed the lights yesterday, now there just needed to be a couple plugs mounted on the walls so they could actually plug something in.  A whole large hospital room and no place to power any equipment.  At least now you could see something.

While David was finishing up the pediatric ward, I moved into maternity.  The waiting room had some women milling about or sleeping on the beds, none of them looking at all pregnant and I soon figured out that at least one or two of them were there using the only working outlet (which was located in the birthing room) to charge their cell phones.

There were a couple women that came in and out a couple times that were looking quite far along, so we thought we would work on the birthing room while it was empty.  One of those women could decide to give birth at any time, and we wanted the room to be ready.  I just hope she doesn't decide to start in the wee hours of the morning.  The Labor Symphony of two nights ago was enough for a while.

The birthing room was quite dark mostly because its one window faced into a copse of trees (and towards our apartment).  The lighting was terrible, and the sockets hung down from the ceiling on their wires.  No wonder the poor girl the other night screamed so loudly.  I would, too.  We removed old sockets and mounted three bright fluorescent fixtures and added a second outlet to the other side of the room.

We actually got this all done by noon.  Now that my key to the depot works and we have some supplies on hand, we can actually get some work done. The only trouble is, the depot is located a couple hundred yards from the hospital, and the entire walk is steeply uphill (both ways!).  After making that walk several times for the part I forgot the last time, my legs were starting to feel it.

After our trek out to the village of Griffen (described in another post), there wasn't a whole lot of time left before the generator was due to be turned off, so we turned our attention to the ambulance.  A few of the flashing lights were out and we took a look at those.  We asked if we could take it for a test drive with all the lights and the siren on, but were told that the Haitians would probably not move aside for the ambulance any more than they move aside for honking vehicles. We would just end up in a Haitian traffic jam.

Wednesday, September 4

It has been quite a day.  I think it's best handled by different posts, each about one of the major events.

We started out the day with devotions overlooking the ravine.  John 11 describes the story of Lazarus, and Neil's point was that God sometimes doesn't answer our prayers in the way we would like, even through what we are asking for is a good thing. Verses 4 and 15 gives the reason that Lazarus died, so that "the Son of God may be glorified through it", and, for the disciples, "that you may believe".  Jesus told them "I am the resurrection and the life", and bringing Lazarus back to life drove that point home in a big way.

A Visit to Abigail's Sponsored Child

From Abigail:

It was worth selling tomatoes and headbands for money to sponsor Marianna.  She was shy, but our families were able to pray together with the help of a translator.  She was glad to receive the gifts that we brought to her including the marble bags that I made.  I even gave her a Chinese noodle bowl with spices for her to try.  You, too, can sponsor a child in Haiti to help with their needs at www.bhm.org.

Haiti Time

Time seems to travel differently in Haiti.  I got a good taste of that yesterday when working on wiring in the hospital.

We got a bit of a late start because we went to the market in Kenscoff in the morning, but we were ready to start at around 10:30.  Since we ran out of ballasts for the lighting in the clinic yesterday, we moved to a utility room, intending to replace an electrical panel or rewire a large inverter.  Both of these items were rat's nests of wiring and needed to be updated.  In trying to figure out where all the wiring went, we discovered that de-energizing the panel would probably take down half of the hospital and was appearing to be a larger job than originally thought.

Plan B was the pediatric ward, which needed new light fixtures.  The ceiling in this room is quite low and the two bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling are constantly being broken by people walking under them. 

We hiked to the depot (the supply room) to grab the new fixtures and other supplies.  Everything is a hike around here because the roads are so steep.  Since we would probably be returning here several more times, I needed my own key.  45 minutes and 3 keys later, we finally had one that worked in the lock.

Back in the pediatric ward, we had to figure out a way to turn off the power.  It was most likely the main panel, located just off the operating room.  The door to the operating room was locked, which sent us on a quest for the key.

Everything here is locked.  If it is not locked, the contents will likely disappear in short order.  The culture here is big on community, and in this community, what's yours is mine and what's mine is yours, and if something is just sitting there, it's acceptable for anyone to just take it.  After all, I need it worse than you do.  Theft is not a bad thing.  So, padlocks are ubiquitous.  And the keys are always somewhere else.

The hospital administrator gave us a large ring of keys, one of which actually worked. We found the panel in a tiny storage room next to the autoclaves, one of which worked, the other which was used to store bananas and a few other items.

None of the breakers was marked, and we really couldn't risk turning off sections of a busy hospital, so we decided to work on it hot.

By this time it was lunch time and we had gotten exactly nothing done.  Neil, one of the pastors and the de-facto electrician, expressed frustration at how little work gets done sometimes.

On the way back to the apartment, we met up with one of the Haitian drivers who greeted us with a broad grin.  He had been to Port-au-Prince and had picked up another box of ballasts for the clinic.  We finished the clinic in the afternoon and even managed to start on the pediatric ward.

Progress, finally.

Night Sounds

Sleeping can be a challenge here.  Our central location here on the campus offers a sampling of a variety of sounds through the night, and that combined with the warm nights and open windows ensures an auditory experience that is unforgettable.

A cacophony of frogs starts up just after it gets dark.  Their high-pitched chirps come from seemingly every direction. At about 3:00 in the morning, when the frogs are dying down, the dogs take over.  There are quite a few dogs that just roam free and they seem to abhor silence.  Just before dawn, the roosters take over.  We're located right next to the zoo, which contains a particularly noisy one.

We are also located right next to the hospital, which sits at the highest point of the campus, almost on top of this particular mountain, and overlooks the entire ravine.  The birthing rooms are at the end of the hospital closest to our apartment.  Their windows are also open because of the warmth.

Someone had a baby last night.  I'm sure the entire ravine knew about it.  The impending birth was announced over and over for most of the night, starting just before the frogs got quiet.  Our location offered almost a ring-side seat.

Lady, I feel your pain.

Monday, September 2

Today is David's 20th birthday.  Today is also Labor Day.  To celebrate, we had a work day.  Before work, we joined the daily devotions on a small outside amphitheater which overlooked the ravine.  Neil led from John 10 (the Good Shepherd) and one of the Haitians translated for the  20 or so Haitians who were there.  A great passage in a great setting.

David and I worked on the lighting in the outpatient clinic, which has been without lighting for a very long time.  The waiting room was dark, the hallway outside the waiting room was dark, and all the examination rooms were dark, lit only by what light came in through the windows.  The clinic is part of the hospital and serves about 100,000 people per year.

The Hospital (It's bigger than it looks from here)

So we spent the day on ladders, replacing ballasts and re-wiring light fixtures.  Several times throughout the day we would get a soft tap on the shoulder or an expression in Creole, and someone would motion us to another room containing a dead light fixture.  We eventually ran out of ballasts and had to stop for the day.

Some problems were rather obvious, and those even remotely familiar with how these fixtures should look will recognize the problem with this one (and it's not missing bulbs):

Meanwhile, Abigail was sewing sheets for use in the conference center (There's 90 beds to make up!), and also small marble pouches for the kids.  Deb helped paint a bedroom for one of the MKs (Missionary Kids).  The desired color was made by mixing a few colors together.  When they ran out of paint, they had to do more mixing.  Hopefully it will match when it dries..  This was not your formula-based paint matching.

We had dinner with the missionary families in a dining room below one of the residences.  Large pots of rice & beans, chicken in a dark sauce, salad from the terrace gardens, and chocolate banana pie made for a great meal with our new friends and family in Christ.

Sunday, September 1

Sunday, a day of worship and fellowship.  We attended the 10:30 church service at the Mission Baptiste church here on campus.  Didn't understand a thing except a few words that resembled English words, but we enjoyed hearing the choir and the congregation sing and we were privileged to share in communion with our Haitian brothers & sisters in Christ.

Lunch with Theo & Martha, a couple doing Bible curriculum development.  Trey was going to take us on a hike down the ravine in the afternoon, but the pouring rain nixed that plan.  Then it was an evening Bible study with the BHM staff.  Tomorrow, the work begins.

A few pictures from today:

The water heater goes off with the generator, so showers are cold until about 8:30 in the morning.  Abigail had her hair washed with water heated on the stove.

View across the ravine from the mission campus.  This is a very mountainous area and the terracing that the early BHM staff introduced here has helped considerably in preserving some of the surrounding land.

Some of the area flowers.  Hibiscus flowers are all over the place also.

The terraced garden.  A lot of food that's eaten here comes from these gardens.

Downtime activity:  playing poker for Twizzlers.

We take water for granted in the States.  Here, not so much.  A lot of the water used here comes from rainwater collected from the roofs of buildings and stored in cisterns.

Haiti-bound

We're here.  I'm not really sure where 'here' is other than 5500 feet above sea level in the mountains just outside of Port-au-Prince.  The road here was a winding, grinding ascent up the side of the mountain, one of the main roads out of the city, also known as the "pick-axe road".  This name came from the Turnbulls, who founded the mission back in the '40s and cut the road up the mountain with pick-axes.  When they came here, Fermathe was just a remote spot on the top of a mountain.  Today it seemed like we never left Port-au-Prince.

Flights were uneventful and we arrived at Port-au-Prince right at the scheduled time.  Just off the jetway in the airport, a Haitian band of 4 guys was playing a loud tune.  It would have been nice to stay for a bit and listen, but we had people waiting for us.  Trey met us just outside the airport entrance, just after we walked out into the afternoon heat, dragging our bags behind us.  There were many people standing around who were more than willing to help with the bags, one of them even insisted on it.  Of course, they expect to get paid for it.  

Trey took a shortcut because the traffic was so bad.  If we would have had anything other than the 4-wheel-drive we were in, it would have been better to deal with the traffic.  I've seen better roads when we were 4-wheeling the backcountry in Canyonlands National Park. The picture below is actually a very good section of the road.

The driving resembled what we had experienced in other countries: a continual game of 'chicken' in usually heavy traffic.

A 'tap tap' (typical taxi).  So named because you tap on something when you want to get off.

Our home for the next week is an apartment in the middle of the Baptist Haiti Mission campus, a fully functioning apartment that fit our family well.  In some of our walks around the campus, we have learned that there are many other things here as well, including a hospital, labs, x-ray machine, clinic, pharmacy, a conference center, including several classrooms where they offer masters programs in theology, a small zoo, a children's playground, a large wood shop, a metal working shop, an auto repair shop, terraced gardens, store, bakery, and several residences, all built into the side of a rather steep mountain.  It's a rather amazing operation.

We had dinner with two of the missionary families and had something very Haitian... pizza, ordered out from the Mountain Maid store here on campus. We had fun getting to know their families and learning lots of interesting details about the mission and Haiti.  David, the only coffee drinker in the family, had some Haitian coffee.

It may have been hot in Port-au-Prince, but here in the mountains, it is rather temperate, pleasant, actually, with the evenings requiring long sleeves.

It had been a long day of travel so we were in bed by 7:30pm. The evening is filled with the sound of frogs and several other animal calls that I have not been able to identify.

Collateral Damage

Now that the kitchen is mostly finished, we were able to turn our attention to a couple other rooms. The new room behind the kitchen, used for our homeschool room, was the first order of business. A set of book cases from IKEA, including one that will mount the TV, was installed along one wall. We moved the couch and the computer table from the living room in as well. One of our goals was to reclaim the living room, which had been the homeschool room for the last eight years. After moving some of the furniture out, the living room began to take on a larger, empty look. One of the casualties of all this was the entertainment center, which has graced our living room for the last 25 years. Since the TV was no longer in it, it was now a rather superfluous piece of furniture, and was no longer needed.

We just had one problem. What do you do with a 25-year old entertainment center that will not fit modern flat-screen televisions?

A year or so ago, when our old 19-inch tube died, we broke down and bought a flat screen. This started the whole problem, because it would not fit in our entertainment center. So we listed it for sale on craigslist. Cheap.

We didn't get a single inquiry. We found out that the thrift stores are lined with old entertainment centers, along with the old TVs that used to fit in them. The demand for them is zero. Even the nice ones, like ours. It was quite a purchase back then, and was still in great shape today.

I couldn't bear to reduce such a nice piece to kindling wood, so I cut out the interior center wall and re-hinged the doors so that it now fit the TV. Problem solved, for now.

Fast forward to today, when it no longer contains a TV at all. The craigslist route still yielded no hits, even though it was listed as being able to fit up to a 50 inch screen. It was still a shame to heat the home with such a nice piece of furniture, so I again took the saw to it, this time doing a little bit more major surgery. I disassembled the entire cabinet, removed the TV portion of it, and re-assembled what was left, leaving a tall, narrow cabinet that could still be used to house electronics, or could be used as a nice curio cabinet. It turned out rather well, as the pictures below show:

Before: The piece that nobody wanted

After: Entertainment center on a diet.

One other benefit: This one will actually move. The original entertainment center was so large and heavy that the people that helped us move it 20 years ago told us they would not help us move again if we still had it. It has sat in the same spot for all of those 20 years.

Our kitchen and addition area is already getting good use, even before it is fully finished. David had a few friends over last night. At least what we thought were a few. They just kept streaming in and all gathered in the kitchen. We lost count at 16. They all piled into the homeschool room and watched a movie. It sort-of reminded me of those how-many-people-will-fit-into-the-back-of-a-volkswagen challenges, only this time it was my furniture under all that humanity.

Details, Details

Wow, It's been a month and a half since I have posted anything. Time flies when you're having fun. And sometimes time just flies.

Our kitchen is progressing. We're getting down to the smaller details, as you will see in the pictures that follow. There are just thousands of those smaller details to take care of.

The first small detail (OK, maybe a bit larger than 'small') was the tile work. We decided to to an accent above the stove using the tile set at an angle, and framed in small squares. Deb then made little accent pieces from Sculpy clay, baked them, painted them copper/bronze color, and then fastened them to the tile. It turned out rather nicely, if I say so myself.

Tile work in the sink area.

Starting the accent above the stove.

Accent complete (click on the picture for a larger view)


Accent pieces added. I also have the range hood power unit hung in this picture. Building the range hood is another 'small' detail.

The next 'small' detail was the wood floor in the extra room off the kitchen. We are planning to use this room for our homeschool room. A few months back there was hickory wood plank flooring on sale at Home Depot so we picked up enough to do this room. It sat in the basement, occupying quite a bit of floor space, for a few months. I finally got to take some it out of the box to see what it looked like shortly before installing it. With a floor nailer purchased on Ebay and a couple Saturdays, I managed to put the floor in. Without Joshua's help, I probably would still be working on it.
Yours truly, just starting out.

A rather long evening's work.

Just finished.

Love the look of a hickory floor!

Yesterday I spent some time putting in baseboard molding and also made some accent strips for the bottom of the upper cabinets. These served two purposes: to add a black accent to the bottom, and to hide the undercabinet lights. For the cost of a router bit, some scrap lumber, and some black paint, it turned out rather well...

A view of the black accents. The next picture shows a closer view.


The 'before' shot. The lights are visible here. They don't show up in the picture as much as they do in real life. At the right angle, they could be downright annoying. Now that's all hidden.


Next up, building a range hood, finishing the trim, finishing the insulation, and a bunch of other things that I've already forgotten about...

Being Dutch

I was cutting up the remainder of a ham the other day after dinner. Abigail was sitting at the island where I was working, watching me. "Why are we keeping the bone?" she asked.

"Because it makes good soup stock," Deb told her.

"Because we're Dutch, and we don't throw good food away," I said.

"OK, we're Dutch, you're Chinese," I added after a short pause.

Abigail got up from her seat and disappeared to her room. In the short time she was there, we could hear laughter drifting down the hall.

When she came out, she was laughing uncontrollably. Between gales of laughter, she announced, "Now I'm Dutch!" She had taken a wad of silly putty, fashioned it in the shape of a large nose, and stuck it to her face.

This is a glimpse of what it's like to be a multicultural family. The differences can be described with a wad of silly putty.

The Story Behind the Stove

Today I did quite a bit of finish work on the island. I'll let the pictures below tell most of the story, but the progress today consisted of the beadboard on the back side of the island (Deb was getting rather sick of the OSB that has graced it for the last several weeks), finish panels and trim on both sides of the island, and a single course of tile on the front of the island between the two levels of butcher block. About the only things left are the grout for the tile and some shoe moulding around the bottom.

View of the front of the island. Just for a frame of reference, if this were the old kitchen, I would be standing in the back yard when taking this picture. The old wall stood midway between the island and the countertop in the foreground of the picture.


View from the family room.


A closer look at the front. The blue boxes in the island will soon be filled with electrical outlets.

A couple days ago, I finally got the stovetop installed. There's a rather long story behind the stove. We took a chance and ordered a "refurbished" cooktop from the Sears mail-order outlet in mid-October. It represented a rather significant savings over the list price, and this particular model was one we liked, having seen a similar one in a local store.

It took quite a while to arrive, and we were beginning to wonder if we were going to see it at all. When it did arrive, it was very poorly packaged, having been wrapped in a single layer of cardboard followed by plastic shrink wrap. Most of the stuff I have bought on Ebay has been packaged much better than that.

Removing the shrink wrap and inspecting the contents, we discovered that there were a few pieces missing. Deb got on the phone and after an unbelievable amount of phone-tag with several different people, managed to get someone who was able to order the parts. It was quite another job just to describe the parts that were missing so we would have a chance of receiving the correct ones. Deb wisely took down that person's name and direct phone number.

In ordering the parts, the representative also offered to send us some of the accessories that can go with this model; a griddle, a wok-ring, and a few other items. We thought we were all set when these parts arrived several days later.

Fast forward several weeks. I got the countertops all in and ready to install the cooktop. In gathering all the pieces, I discovered there was an additional part missing, a gas regulator and an elbow that I could not match at the local bog-box home improvement stores. Deb called the direct line, and the person recognized her immediately. This time I managed to find an assembly drawing on the Internet (did I mention that the stove came with no manuals or paperwork?) and gave the person actual part numbers.

That was the good news. The bad news was that the elbow was back-ordered until January 19, several weeks hence.

We received the regulator a few days later, and a bag containing 10 gaskets a week after that. then January 19 came and went. Deb called again. Apparently they got something screwed up and ordered the wrong part for us. So now we had to wait another week for the elbow.

When it came, there was much rejoicing in the Friend home. Particularly from Deb, who has been working with an electric hot plate for several months. A rather anemic hot plate that takes forever to boil water.

I finally installed the cooktop. I was half-expecting it not to work due to some missing internal piece, but was rewarded with an enormous flame from the center burner.

We gave it the boil test. We had a pan of water boiling in short order. Life is now good.

The big center burner is meant for high heat stuff like stir-fry. We had a stir-fry dinner the next day. It was done in no time and was delicious.

Although there is still a lot of finish work to be done, the kitchen is now fully functional.

The Coat

I now have the metal supports for the island built and in place. Next step is to put the butcher-block top on it. I decided to build my own supports because we just couldn't swallow the $120 each for the fancy corbels they recommended when we bought our cabinets. After doing the math for three of them, it sounded like something we could do better on our own.

The six-foot piece of angle iron cost $14.95. It took some time to figure out how it would all go together, and some time in the barn cutting and welding, but the end result worked out pretty well.

The Plan:

The Product

The Collateral Damage:
While grinding and welding on these supports, I set my coat on fire with the sparks from the grinder. I smelled something different than hot metal, and, looking down, saw a flame crawling up the front of my coat. I quickly snuffed it out. The two layers of clothing under the coat were undamaged, but, had I been wearing less clothing, I could have had a new belly button.