Thursday, June 18, 2009

this old house: fruit room redo

I've mentioned how we live in an old house, yes? It's a beautiful little Craftsman with huge windows and lath and plaster walls--very solidly built. I think we're the second family to live in it. But when it was built people had a different idea of how rooms were used, and our basement is sort of an inconvenient warren of low-ceiling rooms. That's okay with me, since I grew up in an inconvenient warren of a basement--once my dad ran afoul of the corner of a furnace duct, and with blood running down his face, got his sledgehammer and beat anything approximating a point out of that corner. Good times.

When we moved in there were some rickety wooden shelves in the fruit room that had railings twist-tied to the front to keep jars from falling off during earthquakes. They were short, narrow, dirty and irritating. One of the things we decided to do with our tax return is to stimulate the economy by tearing out those shelves, putting in nice, new metal shelves from Costco, and filling them with a decent year's supply of food. We have quite a bit of food, but I don't think our diet would be very balanced if the rapture came today. And there's only so many times you can feed your kids raisin bran ketchup stew before they start whining. And boy, if you think I can't tolerate whining now, just you wait until I'm wearing the same clothes every day, cooking in #10 cans over a fire, and bartering my teeth for food. Because I have really nice teeth. I'm not kidding--they're one of my best features. And my canine teeth are super sharp.

Anyway, yesterday the boys and I with some hindrance from Pinga emptied the fruit room shelves and took a wrecking bar to them. It was pretty sweet. The boys were like pigs in slop and did a great job taking the shelves apart. I made the mistake of painting the walls, which I don't think is going to be much help in making it look like a fruit room instead of a torture chamber. There's a hook attached to the ceiling, which I'm not sure about. Anyway, today we'll assemble the new shelves and begin culling the herd--either eating or donating the stuff that's about to go off, and seeing where there are gaps in our food pyramid. PARTY!

Another thing that happened yesterday was we took Catwoman to the chop. Sad. I cried a little when we dropped her off, which shows that even I am too detached from my food processes. But my sorrow was somewhat alleviated by the humor of our truck being full of shelves, and no other way to transport Catwoman to the meat packer except an old car of ours. So John lined the seats with cardboard, loaded her in, and off we went. Once when we were visiting my parents--before we moved here--we saw a man driving around with a goat in the back seat of his car and were aghast at the lack of self-awareness it would take to do something so trashy. This is a great trajectory we're on.
Farewell, Catwoman. You were a worthy foe.


Sarah said...

Olivia just walked in and asked why I was laughing. I can't really explain, except I'm picturing pretty pink walls in your fruit room with the suspicious hook on the ceiling, and your kids destroying old shelves, while your goat is riding in the back seat with the window down just loving her last few moments on this earth. Good times at your house yesterday.