oven raze the range hood doesn't do a damn thing. it hangs there, an awning with a fan inside, filtering nothing. no steam or smoke drawn in. the skirt has never taken hold of any effluent plume. only the built-in lights see any use, and they're no good at all. the baking coil is where my eyes want to go, watching nichrome bend charged particles into heat the same way my body spits up sparks after guzzling your words like gasoline. sometimes, when the wind is doing its level best to blow us all away, the exhaust vent starts to rattle outside. i always think of it as the whole house shaking, when it's just a piece of bent aluminum voicing the same complaint i would if something i couldn't get my arms around was trying to make me dance against my will. 220406 what's it to you? who go blather from