Post 507: I’m not that handy…

What about that big box that sat in my kitchen these past almost six weeks? Yeah, the one in the photo:


It held a replacement glass for the front of that black box to the right of it, my stove.

Someone in design at the manufacturer said to someone else in design, “Wouldn’t it be sexy to have smoked glass on the front of this oven door where kids and clumsy adults might accidentally bump into it in ways that cause it to crumble into a million pieces all over the floor when taking a hot casserole out of the oven?”

To which the someone else in design said, “Yes, that’s a winner! Call down to copy and have them make up a page in the manual on how to remove the oven door. Put in lots of warnings about glass breakage so the owner knows we know they know we know they know we know they think they might have a basis for a suit when they inevitably break the glass.”

Genius! And the replacement glass, which I found easily enough on the Internet and had got the model number and serial number to order by lying down on the floor in an extremely painful and awkward position with a magnifying glass and flashlight and somehow transferred to paper with my third hand (I guess) cost about $103 for glass and the box it came in.

Keep in mind, physically, I could star in one of those “Help! I’ve fallen and can’t get up!” commercials. While down there on the floor the first time — yes, I didn’t have a flashlight and magnifying glass the first time because I didn’t realize the information on the label is in 8 point type and placed vertically on the side of the frame — I wondered how the cats would take care of themselves after I died there, unable to get up. I shudder…!

But up I got when I realized what else I needed to do the job. I’d thoughtfully placed a folding chair close by, something to support myself on to get up on my feet, and it worked. I got the information the second time down, placed my order, and this big box arrived within a week. Great service! I guess they keep a good supply on hand since all over the country people are breaking these pieces because they are stupid and clumsy customers. Of course, having the glass and having a clue are two separate parts of this story: I had no clue how to replace it, though I formulated a theory or two by looking at the door.

While I pondered the “how” of the repair, I lived with the big box right where you see it in the photo. If it was in the way, the theory was, I’d do something to get it out of the way faster. Ha! Little did I know me! It sat, and sat, and sat, always in the way, taunting me and my poor handyman skills.


First, I thought the glass might just slide in from the side since there is a trough on the bottom where it rests. Two problems there: I couldn’t slide it in from either side because of the width of the glass and the lack of space on either side of the stove unless I could bend the glass somehow without breaking it. Besides I realized when I tried that, that the top slips in under the door handle piece, which meant I had to find the instruction manual to read again how you do it! Need I say that in the several weeks from breaking the glass till I decided to deal with the repair, I’d put the manual someplace where I thought I’d be able to find it quickly? Of course, I couldn’t remember where that was!

The old joke about finding something the last place one looked took fifteen minutes of digging till I got to the punchline: I was not laughing. But I realized everything was simple from there on out. I had the instructions, right?

Sure. What I learned was I had to unscrew the trough at the bottom first and do some acrobatics requiring at least five hands to get the top of the glass in the door handle piece, replace two side pieces that just slipped out with ease and slipped back in with great effort and a touch of magic, place the trough over the bottom of the glass, rescrew the trough to the door bottom (and drop at least one unique screw somewhere while in one of those five hand positions), and…oh! Forgot that damn double-sided tape! So I repeated the necessary steps till I had a repaired door. None of this was in the manual except how to take the door off the stove.

The manual notes the door is heavy with the glass in it — no kidding! — so placing it on the stove was tricky and required three or four tries before I got the exact angle it has to be before it’ll lock into place. I locked the door on to the stove, congratulated myself for doing the repair, and vacuumed the kitchen.

Now, with any luck, the glass won’t fall out on my clean floor.

19 thoughts on “Post 507: I’m not that handy…

    • For sure! It isn’t unusual for me to think I have a fundamental understanding of how something is made or works, so, without any prior experience making or working that thing, try to take on something I am fated to mess up. There are some things, though, that scream “don’t try to do it!”, and overhead doors fit into that category.

  1. In my first house, I existed three weeks with the garage door opener I was installing sitting on top of the ladder, attached on the other end to the wall. I didn’t know they did not provide the brackets and bolts to hang it from the ceiling. I got the parts then pondered how to lift the opener into position and attach it on top of the ladder with no help.

    Finally I got it done. My second house, when the old one broke I paid for installation.

    • Oh man! I remember the overhead garage door opener at the old place, and my blood turned icy cold when I tried to visualize you installing yours at all, even with the necessary parts! I’d do the very same thing you did: Pay someone to do it or I’d be in a pickle! I was half tempted to call the store where I bought the stove and have them take care of the ordering and installation, then I convinced myself it couldn’t be that difficult to do the whole thing. Hunh! Yeah! If I buy a new one down the line, it won’t have that design element (if they still make them that way), that’s for sure.

    • Amen to that! Were that to happen again, I at least had the presence of mind to write the serial number and model number on the instruction manual, which, if I don’t cleverly hide it from myself again, will be easier to access than the first time. I doubt it’s going to get any easier crawling on the floor for this information!

  2. Congratulations on getting the job done. I felt your pain, especially thinking back to last week when I was on my hands and knees trying to find the serial number on my stove, which had conked out.

    • Yes, isn’t it odd they can’t find a handier place to put that stuff, like higher on the frame instead of where you have to stand on your head? Try it with bifocals, too. I may write a letter to the company suggesting where they can put their model and serial numbers! (No, not there…! 😉 )

    • Periodically, I go through my collection, and toss those for things that were given away or wore out. It’s always the ones I truly need that never seem to be handy! The stove manual is back in the designated spot now, not the one where I thought it’d be handy when the glass arrived. The irony, of course, is that it wasn’t at all helpful anyway, except for how to take the door off the stove, just the first and last steps of an amazingly simple process, once you do it once and then have to redo it. It’s still a questionable design choice, one I will keep in m,ind if I ever get a new stove.

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