The unintended collection

WOW! It's been almost two months since I last checked in. Summer is our busy time. I should have taken time to post, but, didn't.


Last time I posted I was showing off one of my custom cheese presses. I also make/restore presses of a different flavor. These are rapidly becoming favorites. This summer I tackled two restoration projects between working on our 105 yr old home, gardening, foraging, and working at a job.







That large cider press on the left looked like this when my DW Pelenaka dragged it home from a yard sale last fall. She paid a whopping $20.00 for it. There wasn't a good stick of wood in it. The big acme screw was siezed into the cast iron crossbar. With winter closing in I didn't get much done last year. As soon as it was out of the car I started soaking it liberally with KROIL penetrant. Best stuff ever made as far as I'm concerned. On the second day I started gently playing a propane torch over the area where the screw passed through the casting. Every day I followed the torch with another shot of KROIL as soon as the metal cooled. After about a week the screw would move back and forth maybe 1/8 of an inch. Then the rawhide mallet came out to tap the screw back and forth. After half an hour it would turn just as it was designed to do. It turns out the previous owner greased it with lard before leaving it out in the weather for the next 20 years. The KROIL broke the rust loose and the heat melted the old grease out. Now the screw has some pitting where it was stuck inside the casting. Not enough to affect operation though. With snow and foul weather on the horizon the old press was greased up and tarped until nicer weather could arrive. When july rolled around and I finally got back to it. I laminated a bunch of fir 1x4's to make a new frame. You may ask why I didn't just make it from maple like it was to begin with. The answer, as it sits today this press weighs close to 100lbs. Using the fir gave me strength, but saved many pounds of weight. Three coats of Krylon white make for easy cleanup. The old basket bands were from a different press and were so oversize you had to fight to get them in and out of the press. So, new ones were made from nice no rust aluminum. All the fasteners that might come if contact with juice are stainless steel. Slata sre red oak treated with Boo's Mystery Oil. Good stuff a bit pricey at $16 a pint, but well worth the price. A new press disk was made from a plastic cutting board. All this effort was made in an attempt to simplify cleanup. It's nice being able to just spray it down with a hose when you're done pressing.

The black press looked worse than this when we found it on somebodies lawn 2 years ago. Covered top to bottom with rust at least it was functional. I shot the red paint and cleaned the loose rust away so we could make our first three gallons of home made cider. Pelenaka hated the red, so when I finally got serious about doing the rebuild last year, I scrounged up some food safe black paint. New red oak slats and a bunch of stainless fasteners really made a difference. I did make one concession to technology when it came to the press disk. That was cut out from a heavy duty resaurant cutting board. When we're done pressing we just spray it down with a hose and wipe some oil on the slats to preserve them until next year. Last year we finally aquired a proper fruit grinder to prepare pomace. Prior to this we used a food processor. This brought a doubling of production and we could have done more if the wind hadn't knocked down all the wild apples before we could get to them.

The little green wine press was another of this summers projects. Found burried in a pile of junk next to an antique shop. It had somebodies version of a home made basket, made from galvanized pipe hanging strap and some entirly too small pine slats. A little grinding to smooth out the casting was all it needed before a coat of food grade paint was applied. Some new aluminum basket bands and some maple slats held in place with stainless screws finished the project.

The big white one is available if somebody wants it. The same for the green wine press. The black one isn't for sale. $300.00 takes the white one and $100.00 takes the little green one. I'll consider taking an anvil, forge , or hand cranked drill press in trade. I am also willing to buy more old presses to fix up. I can fix up your press if you have one needing restoration.

Woods

The home dairy part1

Our first christmas together I made my wife a cheese press. Having seen one in a catalog I figured I could do much better quality for alot less than the $140.00 they wanted. Now I've made several the latest version can be seen at right. Up until this point my dearest had only made ricotta style cheeses. Such cheeses are fairly easy only requiring some milk and an acid such as lemon juice. At one point we had a family member that worked in a convenience store. She had struck up a friendship with the milk truck driver. This friendship netted us many gallons of just out of date milk. Usually in quantities we couldn't consume before spoilage set in. That is when the cheese press came along. Now we can press the whey from the curds and make hard cheeses like cheddar. To date all our batches have come out pretty much like monterey jack. Which is just fine with me. Recently we found a new source of milk. Not quite free like before, but, cheap enough to be making our own butter and cheese again. Right now there is a cheese press sitting in the sink full of curds. I have a gut feeling this will be our best batch yet. My fingers are crossed. My DW loves her cheese press so much she thinks I should start making them to sell. I do occasionally make one to barter for services we can't do ourselves or for things we can't grow.

multi tasking

Sometimes your life has strange moments when you live the life of a modern homesteader. I sit here today able to surf the net, because I'm multi tasking. I have to wonder how many other people have sat in front of a computer while rocking a jar of cream/butter on thier laps.

Old Friends

There is nothing like objects that are what I call "old friends". A well worn, but, reliable tool. A bit from the past that makes you wonder where it's been and whose hands have touched it. Maybe it's some thing that reminds you as Henry Ford once said "change is not progress".

All through my youth I and other budding outdoorsmen my age all lusted for a Garcia Mitchell 300 fishing reel. Usually seen in the possession of our elders, almost always attached to the requisite blue fiberglass rod. Alas, Lust is not reality for most money strapped teenagers. I settled for a green open faced Zebco, attached to a blue fiberglass rod of course. The Zebco gave several years of reliable service. Still it wasn't as smooth as the Mitchell 300. Time found the Zebco replaced by a Daiwa ultralight rig. After about 8 years of light duty the Daiwa graphite rod just exploded right at the molded in ferrule. The always reliable Zebco had been passed on to my stepdaughter for her use. This left me without a fishing rig. Or, did it? About 3 years ago my paternal grandfather started giving me stuff. In this stuff was a old gunny sack full of ratty fishing rods and an old tacklebox. I never paid much attention to the sack contents beyond the bamboo flyrod that stuck out of it. The flyrod went into my gunsafe for future restoration, the gunny sack went into a corner of the garage, kept out of respect for grandpa. A year after the gift, grandpa much to our suprize suddenly passed from this world. At that time the gunny sack was checked out a bit closer. An old white with red trim fiberglass rod with an odd french open faced spinning reel. The reel was beyond repair. A pair of old blue fiberglass rods, guides seriously rusted, but, holding the holy grail of our youths. Yup! Garcia Mitchell 300's. Dusty and making a strange noise no longer smooth operators. Two weeks ago I decided to try and clean up one of the old Mitchell's. A bit of windex on a toothbrush, some flitz to polish the chrome bail, a few drops of Balistol for lube. After an hour the old girl was back to her former glory. That white and red rod, well it's guides were still nearly perfect. I took the windex and toothbrush to it too. Before I knew it I held the perfect fishing rig. Took it fishing that weekend. Threw casts much further than that ultralight rig ever did. Put those casts just where I wanted them too. Caught my first fish on it a couple days ago. A little bluegill too little to eat. Coulda swore I heard grandpa's laugh behind me as I threw the fish back. Just the wind, or was it a new old friend trying to tell me it's story?

Another old friend. Back in those same teenage years, I bought myself a good axe and a good bowsaw. A country boy can always make pocket change cutting firewood and selling it roadside. The axe a "Craftsman" purchsed from Sears was a true workhorse for many years. Cut I don't know how many christmas trees and face cords of firewood with it. Cutting firewood is a rough way to make money though. Only got to keep and sell half of what I cut, the other half going to the guy that owned the woodlot. After my lumberjack experience I started hitching rides with a friend and his dad. His dad had a couple ancient dumptrucks, that he would drive down into NY's "southern tier", or when in a bootlegging mood into PA. A trip with them would net me $25.00 and lunch. Stacking wood inside a dump truck is a much easier gig than cutting wood. It took a week to make $25.00 cutting wood. After a few trips riding down I showed up one morning to find a 56 Ford F600 sitting in thier driveway beside the even older Dodges we had been using. Suddenly I found myself being taught how to back one of the old Dodges into tight spots. More lessons on how two speed rear ends work in hilly country and soon I was making $50.00-$75.00 a day driving. Trucks with 26,000lb GVW's aren't exactly compact things when driven in the woods. Sometimes things need to be moved so you can get where you need to be. Soon my trusty axe was riding with me, it's handle bobbed to a convenient if not efficient 24 inches.

Several years later found me moving away and storing a bunch of my tools in dad's garage. When mom and dad moved a few years ago My old trusty friend was found in a corner, missing it's handle. A handle was purchased, but never installed. A little incident with a former girlfriend found my car with a broken window. Seems she thought she'd make a point with an axe handle she found in the backseat. Needless to say, I never again dated a redhead. A few weeks ago found me in a little country hardware store buying bits for my ancient yankee style drill. While there I wandered around and window shopped. Lo and behold one dusty corner held three double bit axe handles. All three dead nutz straight, one fire tempered hickory. I didn't even know you could still get fired hickory handles. Today I went back and dropped a whopping eight bucks, then spent 45 minutes fitting it. Soon I'll sand off the varnish and give it a dose of linseed oil. Then I'll sharpen the old girl up in preparation for the next big snowstorms downed limbs. Hefting her I hear a voice, a husky drawling country girls voice. She say's "What took you so long".

Woods

The bad part about being a stepdad

For the most part I have found being a stepparent a rewarding experience. Even though they have been in my life a mere 2 years, I consider these three kids my own. They spend summers and holidays with thier dad, half a country away in Texas. This year my stepson's summer visit is going to be a permanant move. For the most part with the exception of an occasional camping trip he isn't much for the great outdoors. His sisters on the other hand will go shooting or fishing every chance they get. Last sunday at his suggestion we took a day for the shooting range. For the past couple years there has been 2 .50 caliber muzzleloaders residing in my gunsafe. They'd never been shot in the time I had them. Ever since we sat and wached the movie "Jeramiah Johnson" he's been wanting to shoot these babies. He has a favorite of the two so he shot that one and I shot the other. First I loaded mine and shot it. Then I loaded his while he watched. He took aim and squeezed off his first shot. At this time I noticed the biggest grin I'd ever seen on his face. At that he reloaded while I watched and he was off and shooting. After what was probably the best afternoon we had ever spent together we headed home. He even cleaned the gun with no arguments, he was actually happy to do it. Today I had the day off. DW worked an overnight shift last night, so I figured it best to get the kids away from home so she could sleep. Off we went to a different sporstmans club. This one a little less primitive, and much more family friendly. Also closer to home. This club has a 35 acre lake built back at the turn of the last century built by the late great New York Central railroad. Origionaly built to assure a constant supply of water for a large mainline water tower in the era of steam power. It now just provides a constant supply of recreation for 900 of Genesee counties families. We spent a great day fishing. And in my case getting completely sunburned. Only one fish was caught, we had more fun feeding our left over worms to the fingerling bluegills under the dock than we did fishing for thier parents. Saturday they hop on a plane for Houston. While mom and I could use a short break just for us, the break will be too long in the end. I wonder if these kids realize just how much they mean to me. I wonder if they know just how much I love them. I wonder if they understand the effect they've had on me. They may not call me dad, but, they are my kids. Just as much as they are his kids. I love you kids. And Christopher, I will miss you more than you will ever know. woodss

Happy Birthday darling!

My wife loves to put up our food. Knowing what is in it is a major factor. Her preferred methods are canning and dehydrating. But, she hates the power company more than she loves putting up food. Thus there is an old wood stove set up in the yard. The kind grandma used to do the laundry on. This is where we do our canning. Her next preferred method is drying. The problem is our 5 Ronco dehydrators all use electricity. So, in her war against the meter reader she often unplugs then and sets them in a sunny window. When this happens we usually lose part of the food we are trying to preserve. With her birthday fast approaching I was at a loss for what to give her. She likes store bought OK, but would much rather have something that wasn't bought. For several weeks I have had a thought running through my head. This started shortly after finding a dehydrator on a window ledge. The food on the sunny side was fine, but, the food on the far side was growing some funky mold. So thursday I grab a dehydrator tray and hide in the depths of my 1920's vintage garage. FYI, most garages from that era don't have electricity. As a vintage tool collector that's just fine with me. In my little treasure trove you will find piles of stuff salvaged from the trash. Don't let me see a pallet made of planed boards in a junk heap. It will soon be a pile of planed boards stacked in my shop. So a few furring strips, a piece of quarter inch plywood, some 5"x30" pieces of plexiglass, and a almost full can of flat black auto primer are soon sitting on my bench. Then I dive into a drawer full of vintage Stanley "Handyman" tools. After two hours I come out for a lunch break and a trip to the hardware emporium for .97 cents worth of white paint. After lunch another hour and a halfs work turns out this. As I set it up in the yard for a test run she walks up and says "now that's neat". I just stick my hand over it and feel the warm stream come off it. Then I turn to her and say "HAPPY BIRTHDAY". In return I get a big hug and kiss. When she asks the question most men dread, I answer "about a buck". Her response is an even bigger hug and a kiss. I guess my 40 yr search for a bride was worth it. She really is a keeper! Woods

Little did I know how prophetic my last post would be. Within a week we were hearing about tainted pet foods. Since then the list has grown to include pig, chicken and fish feeds. Now we are left to wonder if the human food supply could be indirectly contaminated. It could have been much worse, or as time passes may prove to be much worse. The problem is other countries don't regulate the same way we do. Just remember, the guy next door is alot less likely to poison you, than some magacorporation on the other side of the globe.