Done!!!

And now, with the details complete, coverings removed, and fence painted, the house is DONE!!!!!!!!!!

Hey adelheit , whaddyathink of the fence? :-)

Bridging the Span of Centuries

 

Why should I deny it? I’m a geek. A serious geek with an obsession a desire to do things the hard way the way they were done by our forefathers. 

 

Perhaps it is part of my control-freak-anal-retentive detail-oriented nature. Being able to work on things slowly and methodically provides a greater ability to steer and direct the finished product.

 

Perhaps it is my freakishly-accident-prone-destructive-tendencies discomfort with modern tools. Oh heck, there ain’t no other way to put it – I think I have some sort of Amish curse on my head. I have the most unusual ability to destroy modern tools. If it was around before 1900, I’m good with it. But modern stuff? I somehow completely destroy them. In my time cooking in the Claycomb kitchen, I think we have gone through 3 microwave ovens? Maybe 4? 3 or 4 blenders? 2 food processors? 3 hand mixers? I give up! And don’t even get me goin’ on power tools. Generally, if it plugs in or requires a battery pack, I avoid it like the plague for fear of what might happen. I don’t think I recall the last time that I saw my husband use a non-air-compressor-powered-hammer or a non-electric-screwdriver. But not me – I’ll take the elbow-grease-powered tool any time. Heck, electric pencil sharpeners scare me! The last time that I used a dremel, I broke the tip off of the bit. When that happened, I smiled upwards to the fates, thanked the powers that be that I wore protective goggles, and returned to using a hand-file to finish up whatever it was that I was doing. 

 

But I think above and beyond all of these reasons, I really enjoy the connection that I feel whenever I do things the old-fashioned way. I can think of no better way to gain respect for what goes into a process than to do it yourself. Take an ordinary basket, for instance. Simple… basic… no big deal, right? That simple little basket reflects eight hours of manual labor. Machines cannot make reed baskets. Because the give of a reed varies, baskets still have to be hand-woven. No matter how good or fast the weaver, it still takes time. 

 

Climbing up on a ladder last night, and picking olives off of the overabundant tree in Pasadena, I couldn’t help but smile. How many people have done this very thing over the span of centuries? How many olives have been pressed to make olive oil, or cured for other culinary purposes? How many trades and industries have flourished around the olive industry? How many skirmishes? 

 

Having de-stemmed last night’s harvest, I look forward to preparing a brine tonight for them to soak and transform over the next several weeks. Yes, it is a time-consuming process. But such is the nature of what is done, and has been done over the span of centuries!