One of the things that I plan on talking about a lot here is my passion for what I’m going to call “post-modern homemaking” for lack of better term. I’m sure that showing you through a series of well-developed posts would be the best way to define what I mean, but in the mean time, I’ll define post-modern homemaking as reclaiming the art and science of caring for a home and family, but with all the wonders of the modern world at my disposal. For example, my husband and I prefer to cook delicious meals from simple, seasonal ingredients. We do this with a good dose of help from the internet. Now, one might think that the first post on a topic that I am so very passionate about would be about something I’m super proud of. Maybe this first post should be about canning homemade jam I made from blackberries I foraged. Or maybe it should be something challenging that I’m finally getting the hang of–e.g. sewing a straight line. One could think these things, but one would be wrong because I’m going to kick off this ongoing dialog about post-modern homemaking by talking about my recent foray into mold eradication.
My husband and I have set up camp in the maritime Northwest United States where winter never actually happens. Chilly and wet happen. Months of damp, drippy, dankness happen. Winter, despite what everyone around here claims, does not happen. So with that in mind, I’m sure everyone can understand how it is that we got to the end of December and still hadn’t turned on our heater. Armed with a hand-me-down space heater to stave off the chill in our living room, we thought that we had outwitted the dim, sluggish beast that is the PacNorWest winter, but upon returning from our month-long road trip it was apparent that it was we who had been bested.
You see, heaters do more than heat a house. They also circulate air. You know how in most of the country winter signifies a time of pesky dry skin due to the heater always being on? Well, in the maritime Northwest, that heater-dried air is the only thing standing between your clear windows and windows clouded over with condensation and mold. I suppose the lesson to be learned here is that nature is a formidable opponent.
Anyway, in keeping with my ideas about post-modern homemaking, my darling husband and I dove into cleaning up our windows using some of our favorite tools: castille soap, vinegar, and loner socks. The soap and vinegar were topped off with hot water in a spray bottle, sprayed all over the windows and wiped down with the loner socks. All in all, the mold removal was successful, but in hindsight, I would have tried leaving the soap out since all we had was the peppermint scented kind and it smells pretty awful paired with vinegar. As for the future, we’ve got mini-fans circulating over wire baskets of charcoal to improve airflow and promote a bit of moisture absorption. We also turned on the heater to its lowest setting (54 degrees), so occasionally that comes on and helps even more with the airflow situation. Inexpensive, simple, and hopefully effective–time will tell.
So there you have it, the first glimpse into my life as a post-modern homemaker. In writing here, I’m hoping to be transparent about the life that I choose each day to lead. I think that it’s a really meaningful and genuinely sustainable way to carry out my days as a living, breathing part of this world, but I would never want to give the impression that I’ve got all the answers or that my lifestyle is without struggle. Still, I say bring on the mold because there are worse things in life than having to make improvements to your plan to live more consciously.