Aunt Norie’s sewing room
In these days of such care and concern, there is great interest in those stories of the olden days. It was just 80 years ago, it was much tougher than it is now, and people had not been such a wasteful nation as it has become in just that short of time.
Back to our ancestors, my dear mother-in-law and her generation: They had the smoke house where they smoked and cured meat every fall for the winter. It had a fire pit where granddad had the smoldering constant fire under the hanging meats. I think he always used hickory wood. He had made her the most unique and clever drying rack. It stood about shoulder high and with it at least a dozen or more shelves of screen wire tightly woven, copper for the part the food laid on the rest, side and all, covered also with screen. There was no way any fly or varmint could enter. She dried every kind of fruit and vegetable, rolling it in and out of that smoke house each night all summer long.
Those old hens usually quit laying eggs in the winter. Did you know they even preserved eggs? I don’t know (I never learned) just how but they kept a long while in lime water. They also packed them in sawdust, small ends down, and kept them in the cave or storm cellar, it was also called.
Did you know that a stale egg floats in water? A completely spoiled egg also rattles when shaken.
Remember, give all of your cares and worries to God each night — he’ll be up all night anyway. God bless. Hugs now
Aunt Norie, P.O. Box 265, Tonganoxie 66086; firstname.lastname@example.org.
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