Aunt Norie’s sewing column
More on feed sacks and safe places.
Those hiding places first. They go back, of course, to a time when there either were no banks or banks were just not trusted.
Joe Owens' dad had one, they called them, "Post Hole Banks." Theirs was at the base of the third fence post from the corner post of the garden. He felt folks wouldn't think it unusual for a man to be digging in his garden at any time of the year. His bank was right alongside his horseradish patch. It was made of a small galvanized (would not rust) pail with a lid. It was covered with a layer of dirt and a flat rock on top of that.
A stone crock would do just as well. Ernie Miller bought an old house (still standing). It has, in its basement, a five-gallon cream can embedded in the concrete with holes drilled in its lid for a good strong padlock. My folks had a big tin box in the bottom of the oat barrel in the barn. C.N. added, "My dad made sure that barrel never got empty."
To think there are still many folks alive who remember those days, those stories. How fast the world is moving. No one then would have believed all the happenings of today's world. Christmas is so near I'm making four small purses for small granddaughters, they're wild about jeans -- now its jeans with holes, rips, tears, and patches. So of course the purses are to be made of jeans. Oh and patches on the purses too, of course. More about the feed sacks next week.
-- Aunt Norie, P.O. Box 265, Tonganoxie, 66086; firstname.lastname@example.org.
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