"But we lose a lot, too, including some really basic knowledge about things that farm kids 100 years ago—and today—would be shocked to learn aren’t common knowledge.”
So true. When I moved from our farm to S. Florida in 1984 - to begin my writing career after college - I stopped to say goodbye to my German grandmother (I now own and live in her house). She was nearly 90, and was walking out the front door with a double-bladed axe to chop down a dying tree.
Born in 1895, I still think that most anything important I know, I learned from my Grandma. She could raise cows and chickens, butcher a hog, sew her own clothes out of flour bags, make sauerkraut, noodles, and candy, and spend endless hours with not only me, but any kid she happened to meet. One of my best memories is of the day, while fishing, that she had me lash my pocket knife to a stick, wade into a mucky, snake-thick, pond, and gig bullfrogs for our lunch.
That doesn’t even scratch the surface . . . but my Grandma forgot more than I’ll ever know.
I love this post. Years ago, I mean years ago, I went and lived on the land in Nova Scotia when one did that. I had 6 Long Island reds and they laid and then they didn't. Like humans, age did its thing. So with help from our neighbor farmer, my partner chopped off their heads, and I plunged them into scalding water and plucked... and plucked... and plucked. Of course they were too tough to eat. I didn't have the information you shared. All I knew was to go into the coop every morning and gather the eggs, and how warm and comforting they felt in my hand. These days I am vegan, not because of that experience.
"But we lose a lot, too, including some really basic knowledge about things that farm kids 100 years ago—and today—would be shocked to learn aren’t common knowledge.”
So true. When I moved from our farm to S. Florida in 1984 - to begin my writing career after college - I stopped to say goodbye to my German grandmother (I now own and live in her house). She was nearly 90, and was walking out the front door with a double-bladed axe to chop down a dying tree.
Born in 1895, I still think that most anything important I know, I learned from my Grandma. She could raise cows and chickens, butcher a hog, sew her own clothes out of flour bags, make sauerkraut, noodles, and candy, and spend endless hours with not only me, but any kid she happened to meet. One of my best memories is of the day, while fishing, that she had me lash my pocket knife to a stick, wade into a mucky, snake-thick, pond, and gig bullfrogs for our lunch.
That doesn’t even scratch the surface . . . but my Grandma forgot more than I’ll ever know.
https://www.dubiouswisdom.com/
Wow! That’s amazing stock you come from.
Loved this one too. Such interesting info! Great writing style. It’s so much fun to read your stuff. Love your farm knowledge…❤️❤️❤️❤️
Thanks Sue!
I love this post. Years ago, I mean years ago, I went and lived on the land in Nova Scotia when one did that. I had 6 Long Island reds and they laid and then they didn't. Like humans, age did its thing. So with help from our neighbor farmer, my partner chopped off their heads, and I plunged them into scalding water and plucked... and plucked... and plucked. Of course they were too tough to eat. I didn't have the information you shared. All I knew was to go into the coop every morning and gather the eggs, and how warm and comforting they felt in my hand. These days I am vegan, not because of that experience.
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