Something Old, Something New...

J and I have launched into our homemade/handmade lifestyle quite a bit this summer. First, we joined a CSA farm and purchased a farm share for the season. We enjoy this particular share because it's a mix of harvested produce (which we pick up on Thursdays) and pick-your-own crops (which we pick whenever it's convenient). Yesterday, for instance, we picked flowers and basil. We could have picked tomatoes but we're having a hard time keeping up as it is (the tomatoes this season are super sweet and abundant - to make up for last year's blight!).

We made salads for lunch yesterday from fresh, local ingredients: greens, beets, onions, carrots, and tomatoes from the share. Eggs were fresh from J's parents' "farmette" in Brimfield. The dressing (not pictured) I mixed using homemade mayo (surprisingly easy). And the beer (in Mom's glasses) was brewed in house - a wildflower wheat with chamomile and honey.

I also got back into baking bread yesterday. I had made a resolution at New Years to not buy any more bread (after receiving my KitchenAid mixer for Christmas). And I had made good on the resolution until the incredibly oppressive weather we've had this summer hit. With no AC, there was no way I was going to turn an oven on to further roast us. But, we finally got a lull in the hot weather this week and J roasted beets (his new favorite) and I threw some loaves in the oven. Here you can see my molasses graham bread. I typically make this bread or whole wheat honey for our sandwich loaves. They're basically the same recipe except for the two named ingredients. I follow recipes in this book, which I have found easy to follow and has really built my confidence in what I always considered some bizarre alchemy. Now I don't even measure my flour anymore - I can tell from texture whether the dough is ready to be kneaded.

So, besides cooking, baking, and brewing, we've also taken on handwashing our laundry, which is a whole new endeavor taken on because our options for doing laundry are all taxing in different ways (and would take too long to lay out in this post). After much discussion, we decided that we valued spending time together and at home over all our options. And so began our journey into old-timey laundry solutions. I researched the subject on various homesteading blogs, which convinced us that a) this is doable, and b) this is a great mini-experiment to see what things we are willing to do by hand if we do homestead in the future on our own land.

We purchased various pieces of equipment and also refurbished others. Our three "specialty" tools are our Rapid Washer, our glass washboard, and our wringer. The first two we bought from Lehman's, which is an online Amish catalog (admittedly oxymoronic upon first reading), and the second we got for cheap off of eBay since wringers can run pretty expensive. We then added our bathtub, 3 tupperware containers, 1 galvanized steel tub, and a new hose (from our existing washer hookups) to the mix. Here's a breakdown of how it's working...

First, we throw the clothes in the tub to soak with a capful of Myers Baby laundry soap (I love the scent, it's low-sudsing, and it's gentle on my hands). I treat any stains with a biodegradable stain remover. We use the rapid washer to plunge the water and soap through the clothes. I do this at the beginning and end of the soak (and anytime in between if I happen to go into the bathroom). 

Then the clothes get lightly wrung and brought to the washtub, which has a bit of soapy water in it and the glass washboard. I've become convinced that washing clothes on a washboard can get stains and dirt out much better than a washing machine. Case in point (and get ready for TMI): J has a pair of white boxers that he wears to work. Since he's an archaeologist and digs all day, the upper part of his boxers (along with ALL his clothes) typically get covered with silt. We've washed these in a machine before and the slit stains haven't come out. I washed them yesterday at the board and rubbed almost all of it out. I was super excited, which probably just means I should get out more.

The clothes then go through 2 cold water rinses (which we use the rapid washer with too as seen here). This is where our process needs a bit of work, as depending upon the clothing and how soapy things were to begin with, the soap doesn't always rinse out. I think I just need to give it more plunging time and replenish water halfway through the load. (Our loads are about a medium-large in a regular washing machine.)

Finally, the clothes are run through the wringer, which we have set over a basin with a drain (the hose of which goes back into a rinse basin below). J is much better at the wringer than me - it's really hard for me to tighten or loosen the wingnuts (to adjust for different types of fabric), and if you're impatient like me, you risk getting your fingers pinched or rubbing rubber onto the seams of your clothes. The clothes then get hung up to line dry the rest of the way.

Here's most of the setup. It's not really pretty, but it does the job and only takes up the footprint of the treadmill (when it's unfolded).

Well, even with all this homemade work being done, I did make a recent furniture purchase, which probably took major points off my sustainable living credibility. For 10 years or so I've had a chenille loveseat from the 1940s that I just adored. Unfortunately, after 70 years and a fully clawed cat, the sofa was on its deathbed. First, it stunk. Second, the cat spent tons of time on it and under it, which made me nervous that a mouse had died in it or something (see, "it stunk"). Third, the chenille had rubbed off on the seat cushion. Fourth, the frame was broken, which meant we were sitting on the floor. I did a lot of shopping around and fell in love with the Corona loveseat at Macy's. I thought it particularly apt since my 1940s loveseat was also from Macy's. I picked out the color "stone" since it was a neutral that seemed like I could include it in future digs most easily and, while it was clean and bright looking, was also drab enough to hide basic wear. It's now the nicest piece of furniture in my secondhanded living room. Regardless, watching the delivery guys sweat to bring it up the stairs just makes me dread moving out of here all the more...