Now that we've been here juuuuuuuust aaallllmmmmost a year, I've decided it's time to put my own style on the interior of this house, which will involve a whole lot fewer kitschy moose knicknacks than were here when we bought the place. When the new carpet went into the walk-out basement, all the furniture down there had to come out, and that seemed like a good time to rearrange some stuff. One of the things I really like about this house is that all those antiques and vintage oddities we've had forever look like they were meant to be here. It's not uncommon to walk into an Alaskan kitchen (or other parts of the house) and see vintage items still in regular use, and I've tried to copy that way of thinking and use my old things where I can. If they're still good, still useable, and still safe, what am I saving them for?
First up: The Bar. This was my mom's BFF's kitchen cabinet back in the day, and when her husband made her some built-ins, my mom was pretty keen on having her old Hoosier cabinet. I'm not totally sure why we grew up calling it "The Bar," but we did, and it stuck. That poor cabinet has a lot of miles on it by now, having been dragged from Kansas to Texas to Alaska and a bunch of stops in-between. Now, here it is, living in a log cabin in rural Alaska, and it feels like it was born to be here. I actually have a friend up the road who uses her Hoosier cabinet largely the way it was intended - in her kitchen, as part of her cabinetry. I've used mine in the past as a display case, but I can't remember actually putting my kitchen stuff in it, ever.
It's not technically IN my kitchen, but it's just on the other side of the house (which really is only a few feet) from the kitchen. My dear brother sent me boxfuls of fabulous antique goodies that I've heavily mixed into my own vintage goodness and am having fun making displays of them. Now that I think I've got this batch the way I want them, I took a picture and am calling it done. The picture was taken from the bottom of the stairs that lead up to the master bedroom on the top floor. To the right of The Bar is Moya's favorite window that looks out over the chicken coop and the woodsy lot next to us. To the left of The Bar is the sliding door that opens onto the balcony that overlooks the lake. I keep my mixing bowls and some serveware in the skinny door on the hutch part, restaurant-sized rolls of plastic wrap and foil are in the roll-top part, and non-everyday kitchen utensils are in the drawers, including the electric knives and ice cream scoops and whatnot. The green scale is accurate and I do use it. In the jar are some of Jim's quail egg shells that we emptied and kept, just for fun.
I'm so entertained by the number of these products that are still available today. I use a lot of them regularly. Well, their modern counterparts, anyway. Remember that clicking on the photos will enlarge them.
The basket of chicken egg shells came from the hatchery where Jim got most of his birds, but our birds didn't lay these. Jim's aricaunas will lay blue and green eggs like them this fall, though. The mini cookie press was a thrift store find this week. I'm gathering up enough vintage cookie presses that I may "need" to make a display of them by themselves someday. The Miracle Filters Filt-R-Fat, but those aren't ones I use. I filter my bacon grease through modern coffee filters, which are pretty much exactly what the Miracle Filters are.
Now, if you turn away from The Bar and face the staircase, you'll see my wallflowers. There's a gap in the wood trim there, and I don't remember why I stuck a stem of silk sunflowers in the hole, but I did, and there these flowers have remained. They make me smile.
To the right of the wallflowers is a shelf that's even with the floor of the master bedroom. Here it is:
This is part of my wind-up toy army, with which I shall one day take over and rule the world. Fear the tiny whirring sound! Fear it!!
Too much caffeine. I should go get on the treadmill and try to work some of that off. See you later!