Things I love: antique kitchen "gadgets"

As we've started to make more and more food from scratch, we've found that our need for kitchen tools have changed as well.  Although I can and do make bread straight in the oven, I've found that the bread machine is great for set-it-and-forget-it days.  My food processor gets used all the time, for everything from making pie crusts to shredding blocks of cheese.  And my mini-chopper...  What would I do without you?  But for my truly back-to-basics food, I've fallen in love with hand-crank and antique "gadgets".

My first hand-crank appliance was my food mill.  It's not an antique (though the design is), but I love how simple it is.  I also love that there's hardly anything to break.  Most of the parts are cast aluminum or stainless steel, and it could function without any of the plastic bits if absolutely necessary, though it would be messy as heck! I think it says a lot that I love it as much now as I did when I got it 4 years ago.  Here's a picture of it in action, easily pureeing my applesauce:

My next gadget was an ice cream maker.  I had been thinking about getting an ice cream maker, but the one I really wanted (a White Mountain with a wooden bucket) was WAY out of my price range.  I could have gotten a Cuisinart or something for half the price, but they just seemed to lack personality.  But while browsing at the Shipshewana Flea Market that summer, I came across a vintage Alaska Freezer Co. ice cream maker.  It had a wooden bucket, hand crank, and the insides were wonderfully clean and functioned perfectly.  Price?  $25.  And the funny thing is, after doing a bit of research, I found that Alaska Freezer Co. bought out White Mountain back in 1963, but changed the name back to White Mountain in the '70s.  The design hasn't changed appreciably since the 1920s, so I basically got a $150 discount.  Isn't it so much more fun-looking than a white plastic appliance?

And then came the sausage stuffer...  I had been browsing on ebay, looking for a used one, when when I came across the Enterprise sausage stuffer and cider mill.  Cider?  And sausage?  From one appliance?  Both were things I'd been wanting to make, so I was sold!  A bit of research revealed that I'd again found an appliance that was still sold today, with an unchanged design.  So there went any hesitation I'd had that maybe the design wasn't very good.  It's not like you can find many reviews on antique appliances, you know?  So the search began.  I looked at rusty, crusty Enterprises, thinking that I could restore them.  I looked at fully-restored models, thinking that I didn't want the extra work.  And then, I found it.  It was clean and repainted on the outside, but the insides hadn't needed to be retinned.  The price was still a bit steep at just under $200 including shipping.  But it was gorgeous.  And so this beauty became part of my collection:

I haven't used it yet, but I will be making a batch of homemade brats soon to test it out.  And in the fall?  We're going to make cider!

My most recent addition was an Quaker City grain mill.  Again, it's a vintage grinder, but it's still in production (though now it's powdercoated). 

 This one, I don't plan on using regularly.  And it's not especially pretty.  But it's all metal and completely repairable by hand.  I wanted a grain mill to have for just-in-case, but all of the hand crank mills that were affordable were plastic and got terrible reviews.  This guy is bomb-proof.  The grind is somewhat coarse, and the wheat needs to be run through at least twice (unless you have arms of steel) to get flour.  But if the shit ever really does hit the fan?  I'll have bread.  This is one place where I was willing to build in a bit of redundancy.  The mill cost $75, and even if/when I get a good electric mill (like the Nutrimill), I'll still be out far less cash than if I'd shelled out for a Country Living grain mill, which is the gold standard in hand-crank mills. 

But I'm not done yet...  In the future, I'd like to add a hand-crank cherry pitter and an Arcade coffee grinder, which I think is probably the prettiest coffee grinder I've ever seen:

I guess, just like with houses, I like my appliances and gadgets to have some personality.  And while the frilly-ness of the Victorian era appeals to me not at all, there is something to be said for everyday items that were designed to be both functional and aesthetically pleasing.  I truly believe and try to live by the William Morris' adage that, “If you want a golden rule that will fit everything, this is it: Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.”  I aim for my possessions to be both. 

What I Want

In no particular order...

1. To become even more self-sufficient.  I like growing my own veggies, but I wish I had space to raise cattle for beef.  And pigs.  And maybe a goat for milk, if I could just milk her in the morning.  I want to make my own soaps, herbal remedies, and cleaning supplies.
2. To finish our house.  I'm sick unto death of living in a construction zone.  I'm sick of our ugly bathroom and kitchen.  And if the dining room had plaster walls and a pine floor instead of paneling and pergo, I think I'd swoon.
3. To be comfortable financially.  I don't need much, really.  I lived in my first apartment on $800 a month, and the rent was $400.  I can be frugal, and I'm a homebody.  But our car will eventually need to be replaced, and things go wrong.  So "comfortable" means having enough to save a bit every month.
4. To homeschool my kids.  I'm not sure how long I want to do this for, but I already hate the idea of sending Ethan off to kindergarten.  I hate how education has become so centered on standardized testing that it's more a matter of how much you can memorize instead of how much you actually learn.  I'm also not too keen on exposing him to all of the sex/drugs/profanity that it seems like even the littlest kids now know about.  I was sheltered, with the added bonus that I was completely oblivious to pop culture.  I didn't have a clue what all the other kids were talking about, and I didn't care.  I was perfectly happy to read my books about magic and dragons and ignore the world.  But I'm not sure that is completely normal, and I don't expect my kids to be the same way.  So, I want to give them a good foundation at home before allowing the rest of the world in.  I also want them to have the freedom to explore topics in greater depth than what happens in most schools, to really learn about topics instead of just skimming over them.
5. To buy a house and land further away from town.  I want to have room to roam away from pavement, cars, and other people.  We've toyed with the idea of building our own home, possibly from strawbales, and I think that would be the ultimate accomplishment.
6. To stay home from work to raise my kids.  I'm fortunate enough to have family who can watch Ethan, so I don't worry about leaving him.  And I have a job that I love.  But I don't want to do this forever.  Being home feels like something I'm being called to do.
7. To have another child, so that the "kids" and "children" I've mentioned in the past two posts are real instead of imagined.
8. To take an exotic vacation.  Just one would be fine.  I'm happy going to the Smoky Mountains and to Sleeping Bear Dunes for vacation.  But I think it would be awesome to go to Scotland.  Or Italy.  Or Egypt.

Our life, in a nutshell

If you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you will know that I have lots of ideas that often pull me in different directions.  We are still trying to sort out the specifics, but our ultimate goal has always been to live a more healthy, sustainable, self-sufficient lifestyle.  Secondary has been to fix up our house.  We vacillate between staying here and moving.  We also talk often about whether or not I will continue to work full-time.

I know a lot of this has been gone over before in previous posts, but I need to clear my head, and writing is usually the best way for me to do it.  Bear with me.

 I still feel very strongly that our country is headed for disaster.  I don't mean this in a conspiracy-theory kind of way; I just mean that we (as a country)  have had our priorities jacked up for about as long as is sustainable.  Our goal has been progress.  Progress at any cost, and progress for its own sake.  As machines and computers started to do the work of people, it was thought that people would work less and have more time for leisure.  The opposite has been true.  We work more.  We spend less time as a family.  We value entertainment over relationships.  We value convenience over authenticity.  Newer, Better, and Faster have become the gods that America worships, and we serve them at an extremely high cost to ourselves and our future.

And I DO NOT want this for myself or my family.  In many ways, we have opted out.

Our only television lives in the basement.  I will not raise a child who is a mindless consumer.  We avoid toys and clothing that are feature popular characters.  He has no idea who Dora and Diego are, has never seen Blue of Blue's Clues, and identifies Cars characters by the type of vehicle they are instead of by name.  I intend on keeping it this way for as long as possible, as I feel very strongly that kids are exposed to too much advertising too early.  Mommy and Daddy should be the central figures and examples in the lives of our children, not characters.  Too many people rely on "educational" television to teach their children.  Shayne and I will rely on ourselves.  We strive to set an example of behavior for our children to mimic, instead of telling them to do as we say and not as we do.  We are our children's best teachers, and as a result, we are becoming better people.  We are far from perfect, but it's important for our kids to see that too.  We make mistakes.  We are human.  But we can always strive to be better.

We spend lots of time outside.  Ethan has never once become bored or cranky outside.  It's the ultimate entertainment, and it moves at the speed of the child.  All it takes is a parent or caretaker willing to supervise instead of getting something done.  It's not realistic to spend all day, every day outside.  Meals still need to be cooked, showers need to be taken, and the laundry doesn't put itself away.  But it's been an important lesson for me to organize my time around my little guy's need to play and explore - not the other way around.  Babies accommodate the parent's routine.  Toddlers need accommodation, otherwise they become cranky and confused.  Having a loosely structured day, with the child's needs foremost, make for a much happier home.  Please don't confuse this with accommodating a toddler's every want and whim.  There is a difference.  Children need to play.  They also need boundaries.  They do not need to be allowed to tyrannize their parents.

We grow and raise some of our own food - more every year.  And we are working on cooking more and more from scratch.  In addition to being healthier for us than conventionally grown food, our organically frown veggies are healthier for the earth.  And the less food that is shipped across the country, the lower our country's gas consumption.  We also have the peace of mind from knowing our eggs were laid by happy, free-ranging hens, that our home-canned food is additive free, and that we are raising our child to think about where his food comes from.

We live within our means.  We could afford a larger house, with a larger payment.  We could afford a new car.  We could afford to take a cruise.  Well, none of this right now, since I was paycheck-less for a while and our house and car both decided to fall apart at the same time we had big vet bills for our poor old kitty, but our household income is higher than that of the average American family.  But we don't live like the average American family.  We choose to save money in our own retirement fund instead of relying on Social Security or pensions from our jobs. 

We try to live small.  Less stuff means less to clean, less to take care of, and less to weigh us down.  It's a work in progress, and we aren't true minimalists or ascetics.  We just try not to have anything that isn't useful, beautiful, or that we don't love.  It's hard.  Especially with the constant bombardment of media and internet images.  Even though I have all the ads blocked on my browser, I still visit blogs and message boards, and I see houses and property that I wish I had.  I have to constantly remind myself that we are where we are supposed to be right now, and there is always a lot behind the pictures that I don't know.  Maybe the people are swimming in debt.  Maybe they received an inheritance.  Maybe they scrimped and saved every penny for many, many years to be where they are.  There are so many variables that it's an exercise in futility to try to compare yourself to anyone else.

These are the main tenants of our existence right now...  But where are we going?

And the truth is, I don't know. 

I'm trying so very hard to figure that out right now, but I'm not making any realistic headway.  I just feel pulled in six different directions...  Over the next few days, maybe weeks, I'll be trying to work through my options and feelings.  Stay tuned...

My brain hurts...

Well, we might be nuts, but we've set up an appointment to check out the house with 19 acres.  I'm of two minds about it.  On one hand, if it's a dump I can stop thinking about it.  On the other...  If it's livable and has potential, I'm going to drive myself more crazy than I already have been. 

Here's the Good: The property itself is pretty much everything I could want.  With 19 acres, there's plenty of room for a pond, livestock, outbuildings... whatever.  With the little barn and the littler barn, we could get some of those livestock without having to build anything to house them.  Two car garage, trees for shade, and no neighbors.  The closest one is about a quarter mile away.  No more bar, no more trains, no more Metallica at 2:30 am (Nothing against Metallica, but I don't like it blaring in the middle of the night when I'm trying to sleep).  There's also a fireplace and a big mudroom/laundry area.  It's within the 5 mile radius of town that allows Shayne to keep his take-home car, and it's also near the highway that goes into the city for easy shopping.  Even though it's about 7 miles further out than our current house, they're all highway miles so it wouldn't be a hassle to run errands.

The Bad is that the house is quite probably a little smaller than the house we're in now.  Only a partial basement, but there is a walk-up attic.  No workshop outside, and I'm not sure there's space for Shayne to have his "Man Cave"/LED workshop inside.  It's also a 1950s house, which here in backwards Indiana means it looks like a '40s house.  I don't have a huge issue with that, but it just doesn't have the character of a bungalow.  But since this house is in need of updating anyways, I could always add architectural details.  And maybe raise the roof and finish the attic.

The Ugly: the septic.  Just having walked around the property, I know the septic needs to be updated/replaced.  The existing one is concrete block-lined holes in the ground.  I know that's pretty much what we have in the Prairie Box, but at least ours is buried.  These you can see into from the yard.  Yeek...

I dunno if this house is "The One".  But it's definitely got me motivated to finish work on the Prairie Box so that when The One comes along we'll be ready.  It's also really solidified in my mind that I want a farm.  My mental picture is of an old farmhouse or bungalow amidst rickety old outbuildings, but my logical side knows that would be too much work.  A guy I work with bought a house with an old barn.  The barn is in good shape, but there are lots of gaps in the siding where the boards have shrunk.  The cheapest estimate to make it weathertight again??  $13,000.  So large barns or many buildings would be very expensive to maintain, and aren't really worth the postcard look. 

And as much as I love old houses, and am dying to own a bungalow or another foursquare, I'm willing to compromise if we can find the right piece of property.  You can always change a house, but you can't make a piece of property bigger, or change the neighbors, or its proximity to bars and railroad tracks.  When they say that location is everything, they ain't kidding.

Ugh.  Lots to think about.  I'm looking forward to Monday, so I can see what this stupid house looks like and get my head together.  Even if I still want this property, at least it'll be with full disclosure instead of all this wondering.

Off I go again

I must be nuts.  I think I say this to myself at least a few times a month, so I'm starting to wonder if I might not be onto something... 

Here's the problem: I found a "new" house.  There's a subdivision going in nearby, and an old house is in its way.  I went into the house to check it out (first mistake), and found it to be pretty cute and in surprisingly good shape.  Then I called the developer (second mistake).  He said I could have it to move off the property.  So I called a local house-mover for an estimate (third mistake), then a realtor (#4!). 

Ack.

I'm not going to push it, though.  If it falls into place, it was meant to be.  If it doesn't, it wasn't.

Still...  This has brought up all kinds of conflicting feelings.  The gist of it is that I love my house.  Really love it.  There are things I wish it had and little quirks I'm not thrilled with.  But it's mine, I've poured lots of time and sweat into it, and looking at the work I've done makes me proud.  But I don't like where my house is at.  The bar a block away drives me nuts, and my woods-removing neighbors piss me off.  Plus, I'd like more property to keep livestock and have a bigger garden and maybe a little orchard.  So I want to move, but I don't want to leave my house. 

I'm also thinking a lot about the projects I want to finish, projects that would really help future resale value in addition to helping un-remuddle the house.

We've also talked about building our own home.  Like litterally building it ourselves.  At least the shell.  A company called Shelter-Kit sells customizable kit homes that look promising.  We'd be able to tailor our house to exactly what our needs/wants are.

And then I think about what we really, truly need.  Even with the baby, 1100 square feet is plenty, even if we have another child at some point.  We're far enough away from the city that crime isn't really an issue, and we're reasonably close to shopping and family. 

And I think about what I really want.  I found architect Ross Chapin's website and fell in love with his new/old houses.  The rooms aren't impressively huge, they're small and cozy.  There are built-ins, nice woodwork, the ever-elusive "character", and good separation of public and private space.  His houses say "home" to me.

Analyzing which qualities I like in his houses, I've realized that my house has the same qualities.

Maybe the Prairie Box is the forever home we thought it was when we bought it.
Maybe in spite of the neighborhood flaws, we're right where we're supposed to be.
Maybe I am home.