NEWS FROM THE HILLS
Dear Cousin,
The proverbial groundhog has crept back in his burrow to await spring, and who can blame him? He probably got a glimpse of his winter fat and hid before anyone could see him — even his shadow was overly plump.
I know exactly how he feels. With all the magazines and newspapers promoting lean and healthy life styles, I feel guilty every time I see a reflection of myself. Sometimes guilt eats me up to the place that I just have to eat another piece of pie for consolation.
Generally, I don’t pay too much attention to my appearance. For some time though, I have been noticing that age is taking its toll. Gravity is pulling everything downward except my eyebrows, and they are growing straight upward. What is left of them, I mean. Most of them have migrated to my upper lip. One of Patty’s classmates remarked that she goes to the class reunions to see who among the women has the biggest mustache.
It is a shock then to have a picture taken. All at once, a person is painfully aware of the changes that time has made. While we have been going about with our daily living, time is making inroads on our body. How long have those wrinkles been there? And have those eyelids always been that droopy? It is a curious thing that the heart can stay young but the body betrays us.
The moment of truth comes when the picture is finished. The fat face, the three chins, the gray hair all belong to me. Disillusionment! This is not the image I had pictured in my mind! Trouble is, it looks just like me.
Back in the “good old days” people were not as concerned about their looks. Our hard-working ancestors didn’t have to worry about weight problems or high cholesterol either. I received an enchanting letter from one of my readers that describes life when she was a girl. I just have to share it.
It’s from Carolyn Knight of Marlinton, and she writes: “Your column on souse-making brought back many good memories. We cleaned the pig stomach and soaked it overnight in salt water. Then it was stuffed with ground potatoes and onions, new-made sausage, stitched up tight, put in a pan of water and baked slowly all day—by supper it was great.
“The work was shared by my great-gram, gram, and great aunts—we worked together canning and smoking the meat. My great-gram had a recipe for the brine she used on the bacon and hams that we smoked. It was so good—not salty like so many of the bought hams.
“At the time, I thought it was all work, but by January I had such a feeling of contentment. The mow was full of hay, the bins full of corn and oats. The straw covered pumpkins, squash, and sometimes-late watermelon.
“The cold room had cider, apples, pears, potatoes, and the last of the tomatoes—hung plant and all from the rafters. It also contained cabbages, carrots, turnips, rutabagas, etc. The canning room had crocks of pickles and sauerkraut—and shelves and shelves of canned food. The green milk separator was in there too.
“We had chickens for meat and eggs. In the fall the flock was thinned, and whole chickens canned. I wonder what happened to those wide mouthed canning jars we used? Eggs were stored in sawdust.
“There was a smoke room built onto the back porch where the hams and bacons were smoked—made it handy to tend the fires. We milked the cows, usually two or three Holsteins and one Jersey. I milked the Jersey, and Gramps would holler at me because I had a half circle of cats around me with milky faces—but Bess always gave plenty of rich milk so I got away with it.
“Gram made cottage cheese and I churned the butter. We had buttermilk for pancakes and biscuits. Gram baked loaves of bread the same day I cranked the churn, and when the butter was made I had a piece of hot bread with new butter. Pure manna!
“So many memories—I ran a trap line for three years to get me through high school. It was really cold at four AM, and the horse wasn’t an early riser. Ha! We had pigs, feeder cattle, and two or three sheep. We never ate mutton-Gramps didn’t care for it, but we made bats out of the wool for comforters and spun it for knitting socks and mittens—but not me, I never did get the hang of knitting!
“We always had horses. My Gram and her brother broke and trained riders and drivers. She taught me horse training, bicycle and motorcycle riding. We wore divided riding skirts—a lady never wore trousers.
“During the winter the quilt frames were put up in the sitting room and we all sat around them sewing. They also taught me embroidery work. We had popcorn and Gram made popcorn balls, and we cracked walnuts, hazelnuts, and pecans. These were baked into cookies, breads and cakes.
“I know the work involved, but it was so much better when we made our own and grew our own. After 40 years of office work, I have no feeling of accomplishment in that. I no longer walk the farm, checking fences, waterways, plants and animals, or resting my eyes on a green growing field.”
Thank you, Carolyn Knight, for all the good memories.
It is snowing again, covering the roadways and roof tops with a fresh coating of snow. This whole month of January has been colder and snowier than usual. I think our mild winters of the past few years have spoiled us.
Mild, sunny weather will come again, I am sure. I saw a rainbow in the clouds.
Hug the little ones for me,
Love,
Cousin Alyce Faye
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