Last night I actually had a dream about our kitchen microwave. In reality, we don’t use it at all anymore, preferring instead to reheat things on the stovetop or toaster oven. It makes me uneasy to use microwaves now just because of a study my dad told me about once: Someone ran an experiment watering two plants. Plant 1 was watered with regular tap water (I’m assuming of a similar temperature to Plant 2), and Plant 2 was watered with microwaved water (or perhaps it was Plant 2’s water that then got cooled to room temperature after it got microwaved). Anyway, Plant 2 died while Plant 1 thrived. It made me thing about what’s happening at the atomic level when we microwave stuff and it kind of freaked me out and had me begin to establish a lifestyle that was not reliant upon it.
So right now we’re kind of using the microwave (which is pretty much built into our kitchen and sits about, above the stove top) as a storage cabinet for dry goods. It’s like a mini pantry. And if though this is the case, we will still use the microwave’s timer function for tea steeps and other things that require a timer. But once in awhile we’ll forget to hit time and just punch numbers in on the pad and accidentally turn the microwave on with all the stuff inside. It usually lasts no more than a second before we all jump and turn it off. But it always frightens me. Anyway, in my dream last night my brother went to set a timer and accidentally turned on the microwave, but neither I nor he realized right away and all of a sudden we looked up and saw it had been on for 7 minutes. I remember turning my head toward the back door and hearing the microwave explode and felt the door hit the back of my head.
Not sure if this is also related, but last night my mom cooked squash and her and I were talking about the time my grandma microwaved a squash, but she didn’t pierce holes in it first and it exploded in her microwave so hard that the door did actually fly off. And there was squash everywhere in her kitchen. Seems likely that my subconscious was dwelling on the memory of that story. My family doesn’t seem to have lots of luck with squash – A few years ago my mom accidentally cut herself while trying to cut open a spaghetti squash and ended up needing to be rushed to the hospital for stitches. I still get a shiver when I think about it. I wasn’t there for it, because I think I was coming home from work at the time, but I of course heard.