…and my great grandfather. My great grandfather came here from Germany when he was 3 years old. He became a cabinet maker, and built his family’s home here on Long Island in the 20’s, not terribly far from where I live.
He is listed, Otto C. Medeck, on my genealogy site as “cabinet maker”. I’ve no idea where he learned his craft, I do know I have several things he’s made- a bench, a small washstand, two step stools-one that folds into itself and looks like a regular stool. I will tackle stripping and refinishing
that this summer maybe. Growing up I remember we had several small step stools in the house, the sort small children stand on when they can’t reach the sink to brush their teeth. My girls, I’m sure, know of what I speak. One may or may not have been used as a time out stool.
His home, when the last of the family was gone, held the treasures of years gone by. His workshop was on the closed in front porch. There we found the hand drawn plans and measurements for those steps stools, the jars of screws and nails…and no power tools. My dad, too, was in construction for a time. He built the house I grew up in, along with many others in my home town. Our house had a lot of natural pine trim, and hand made paneling around the fireplace, and halfway up the kitchen walls, natural pine cabinets in 
the kitchen and varnished trim around every door and window. As teens, we started painting our rooms as we wanted. I wanted to paint the trim. Daddy pitched a fit, saying you don’t paint over wood like that, you don’t cover the grain. I was young and didn’t appreciate what he was saying.
Fast forward to now, I have my own home, have had for years. I searched for a vintage hutch to take the place of my IKEA work/storage rack. My dream is a Hoosier cabinet but alas, the space I need it for is about ten inches too narrow. I settled for a mid-century shelf thing with one large drawer.
And as I sanded by hand, touching up and smoothing down, I ran my hand over the wood and found that it was like satin (think of that scene where Gibbs is hand sanding because no power tools in his basement, and he runs his hands down the wood…I get it, I totally get it.) The smell of sawdust in the air, that raw wood scent, the summer breeze coming in the barn door…the barn where, I’m told, small boats were once made and rolled on tracks down to the river . Unlike Gibbs, I do have two doors that a small craft would fit through. I’m surprisingly comfortable in it. There were a few stubborn corners and tight places but oh the satisfaction when you finally get it down to the original, the sense of achievement, “I did that”!
So, with the whole thing down to natural wood, the question arises: stain, wash, or…not. I’d thought about a sage-ish green wash, my kitchen being green and yellow, specifically pale green cabinets. All thoughts of that ended when I did one side with Tried & True Original Wood Finish. It’s a combination of linseed oil and beeswax, easy to wipe on, and brings the wood, with all that glorious grain, to a beautifully warm honey-golden sheen. The photos in no way do it justice, not even close. Note: my fathers coat of arms and the chalkboard from my great grandparents house are the perfect accents.
Are there some minor flaws? There are but not that you notice, and I’ve learned from them. I will know better next weekend when I start stripping the base of my new, old green enamel top table. Another dream of mine, like the Hoosier cabinet but this one doable. The base and legs on the table are painted…gray. Why??? It has a drawer, which I’ve stripped just to see what’s under the gray (and green, and yellow, and white). Lo and behold, it looks like white oak, to match the new old shelf. I now have a new home for all my tea and my baking sheets. It’s the little things that make me happy.
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