Home

The Historian’s Tax

Home and Renovation

And then, you run across that thing.

The thing that may not even have a specific name. In this case, I’m referring to a “wall-mounted early-1800s plate rack.” I read quite a bit about them, but never figured out exactly what it’s supposed to be called. They seemed to start disappearing with the Victorians. As far as the late-Colonial folks go, they probably didn’t need a name for it, knowing it more as “where my plates go.”

A salvaged rack from a vintage kitchen

O

These hung on the wall over the sink. After washing, you put your clean plates directly into it so they could drip dry.

When kitchens started to become something to look at as well as work in, we decided that you shouldn’t be able to see all of our plates and stuff. Cabinets, drawers, and counters took the place of racks, shelves, and tables. Pots were no longer hung from the ceiling, crockery was put out of sight, and all of our kitchen stuff disappeared into hidden spaces.

You don’t see them very much anymore, other than non-functional versions in custom kitchens to display fancy plates. This is where the Historian’s Tax comes in.

No, you can’t walk into a store and buy one, but there are craftspeople out there who would be happy to make you one … for $400+. That’s for pine — not even oak or another decent hardwood. And some of the examples I’ve seen from craftspeople don’t have an open bottom; which defeats the purpose entirely. For far less than half, I can get some really nice cabinet-grade wood, and build my own.

I can make it the perfect size for the space we have. One of the most important DIY things I’ve learned is that there’s no sense in having some thing that’s almost correct. I designed my own with a bit of detail/trim — just a leeeeetle bit over the top. Out of period, yes, but a little gingerbread never hurt anybody.

My design

O

I do love the continuum — Just over 180 years ago a half block off Main Street, standing here on the same spot on the very same floor next to the old chimney, someone stood over a basin. Tucking away their plates into whatever this thing is called. Maybe they even built it themselves.

When God Closes a Window, He Moves a Refrigerator

Home and Renovation

The useless window is now gone, and the refrigerator is moved where the window used to be.

It got no sun (at all) and it was on the skinny-alley side — 3 1/2 feet from the neighbor’s three-story house. (No wonder it got no sun.)

O

Pantry (pan-tree) — A closet for your food. Carson on Downton Abbey has a great big fancy pantry that has glass cabinet doors. Other people have pantries that are a 2×4 + drywall boxes that they hurriedly stick the drying rack full of underwear in when you ring the doorbell.

O

Jonathan put together two of the three shelf units for me, so I plunked them where they’ll eventually be permanently.

This is that corner of our kitchen all messed up and pulled apart. The pantry will continue down from the big weird box over the shelves. The big weird box is where the fire used to connect to the chimney. (I didn’t do it. Long story.)

I’m currently mulling November vacation ideas in my head. I’m on #2 — Florida. I concentrated for a few days on a train trip to Washington DC. It didn’t stick. Having to go into Manhattan to catch the train when I can get on a plane to Florida (where it’s warmer) right here in Westchester. Plus, I’m not really interested in Washington DC to begin with. We’ll see where it lands.

The Warm, Cozy Feel of Stainless Steel

Home and Renovation, New York

We’ve made a commitment to fully restart renovations.

The two-year pause did us some good. “Charming and vintage” has always been important, but we’ve now added “and incredibly, absurdly comfortable.”

A big change will be hiring out a good amount of the work. Previously, I was doing everything myself. For friends that are not familiar, our house is a two-story downtown cottage built in the 1840s, with additions/bump-outs from the 1880s and the 1940s.

The day we moved in vs. one year later. I tore the front of the house off, replaced the windows, made functional period shutters, and reinstated the covered porch. No prefab or plastic — every post, beam, and stick of wood was cut by hand. =)

Jonathan had our contractor (who is also a friend and neighbor) in for a few small things while I was in London — a faucet here, a socket there. I’m inordinately excited about the plugs, because we’re replacing the old ones with sockets that have high-speed USB charging and smart-home-whatever.

The kitchen work begins this week. I’m eliminating this useless window so the refrigerator can be moved there. Then the pantry will be built where the refrigerator was.

The kitchen will be a big job — everything is being yanked out. We’re even tearing down the plaster ceiling to reveal the 1840s beams, and we’ll gain over a foot in height.

A few years ago I noticed an obvious trend toward countertop appliances — air fryers, stand-alone induction cooktops, convection ovens that can handle a large pizza or an average-sized turkey. Especially in apartments, I started to see entire kitchens outfitted with these types of things rather than full-sized appliances.

No gigantic range and nothing permanently fixed in place? Sign me up. I have a countertop induction unit and a French door convection oven in my shopping cart right now. The amount of times we’ve needed more than three burners or had to roast a 20-something pound turkey? Exactly never.

I don’t like cabinets, and we wanted the whole kitchen to be easy to clean. I landed on stainless steel restaurant fixtures. Easily cleaned and they can be moved! Perfect!

Off we go! Below are two views from my design.

Have a great sleep!

Safe as Houses

Home and Renovation, Mobility, Travel

I’m home, and happy.

It was a very good trip. I’ve seen the few London sights that were still on my list, and I talked to some very nice people – It was so nice that Mark in the antique shop remembered me. He explained some antiques to me when I didn’t understand what they were used for, and we chatted about upper class fascism.

I had a nice chat with an elderly couple on a bench in front of Saint Mary le Strand. I had complimented her dress and scarf — in our baggy, drapey clothes, she and I looked like twins. LOL

The commuters that stopped to help me out at Victoria Station were so lovely, so kind. Last night, a mom in the airport emptied her shopping bag and rushed over when she saw my crappy paper bag from the store had broken and everything fell out.

And with these pleasant memories, it’s time for me to retire from major international travel. Although my insides are perfectly operational, my outsides don’t carry me around as easily anymore, especially in a marathon situation. Walking with the stick (which I actually enjoy) makes it hard to carry anything. Even just the air travel. It’s too much — 14 hours door to door with no sleep, lots of walking, waiting, chaos, carrying, confusion, crowds.

Assistance & disabilities services at the airports might be even more humiliating and unpleasant than trying to walk it, dealing with the pain, and falling. It’s appalling that people are treated this way under the guise of an airport appearing kind and helpful. I’m working on a separate post about this.

It’s lovely to be home with Jonathan and my pups, and it’s awfully nice to have my comfortable routine back.

Have a great sleep!

Peekskill Waterfront — photo via Miss Bonafide, TripAdvisor