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Discussion Starter · #1 ·
Simple things that you learned from your mom and dad. Mine both went through the depression but lived on a farm so they were poor but not hungry. Mom was a huge advocate of corn starch and always kept a lot around for both food and medicinal purposes. We all know the food part but corn starch is also great for help on skin rashes especially the ones in the nether regions when suffering from the after-affects of corrosive diarrhea or just plain old heat rash. Anyway, don't leave home without it.
 

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A few months a go some one sent us a link to a You Tube video on depression era cooking. Had some old gal showing how to fix what we had just had for dinner! Veggies and egg's all scrambled up together. We call it a garbage omelet, Any thing in the frig that is going to go bad? Chop it up and mix it with some eggs.
 

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Back when I kept horses I would sprinkle corn starch in my underwear for long rides. worked great.
it's good for making gravy with roast drippings too.
 

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I put it in an old sock to use for "crop dusting"
 

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Discussion Starter · #5 ·
Yep Bugeye, I agree it makes great gravy.... Personally tho I have learned not to use the corn starch from my underwear to make gravy .... too salty .... ;D :p :-X


OK. ... Just kidding. Anyway, corn starch is great for horseback riding. I had forgotten about that since the last time I was on a horse was back in 72. I was home visiting from college and my grandfather needed cattle moved. After the work was done (more than enough hours) I got off and swore I would never light the saddle again. Kept my word too.
 

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[ quote author=vacek link=topic=307463.msg1099961243#msg1099961243 date=1437879461]
Yep Bugeye, I agree it makes great gravy.... Personally tho I have learned not to use the corn starch from my underwear to make gravy .... too salty .... ;D :p :-X
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OK. ... Just kidding. Anyway, corn starch is great for horseback riding. I had forgotten about that since the last time I was on a horse was back in 72. I was home visiting from college and my grandfather needed cattle moved. After the work was done (more than enough hours) I got off and swore I would never light the saddle again. Kept my word too.
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I wondered how long you had to boil the shorts to get um tender.
Yea, I fall off of horses. Takes conditioning of an entire set of muscles for clamping and balance that you never use for anything else. SORE! :-X ear
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My father (90) tells the stories of growing up starving during the depression. When he was drafted into the Army at age 19, he weighed only 85 pounds.

He lived on a farm until he was 6, and then they moved to a shotgun house in downtown Richmond.

They had meat about once a week. His mother would buy one pound of flank steak, and lay it on a board, and pound it with the back of an old claw hammer to make it tender. Then she would cut it up and put it in a pot with two potatoes, one carrot and one onion. That was dinner for four.


The vegetables were "salvaged" from the garbage cans in the alleys behind the downtown restaurants, by my dad and his little sister when it got dark. He took his little sister along because sometimes if she knocked on the back door, the cooks would give her an old vegetable instead of throwing it in the garbage can first.


He said that lots of times, there were no whole vegetables in the cans, but just mounds of wet potato peelings. He would dive in and retrieve handfuls of them, and put them in a paper bag that his sister carried. His mother would then fry the peelings for dinner.


Mannyrock
 

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Discussion Starter · #8 ·
MannyRock,
That is quite the story. As mentioned both of my parents grew up on a farm. This was in the Texas and Oklahoma Panhandle and they had to deal with the little Dust Bowl incident. :eek:






However, mom said they always had enough to eat because they raised livestock, had a dairy, and a garden. Same with dad. Mom did recoount how the town kids were often hungry and didn't have a lunch to bring to school. Mom had a town friend and often shared her lunch (a sandwich made of home-made bread, cream and sugar) with this girl.


Dad said their garden in the OK Panhandle was about 1 acre in size. They spent evenings in the summer working the garden, canning, etc. They also spent a lot of time in draws/crick areas picking lambsquarter and wild onions. Compared to your family, yes they were poor but never hungry or desperate. Mom always thought they were blessed during this hard time. The dust storms were bad; there was no money, but they had food.
 

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my maternal granny used to tell me
of those times some years back when
she was still with us. my mother and
her sister and my dad and his siblings
were all born in the middle of the depression.
she would tell me about ways they used
to make do, and how so-and-so's baby
sister cut her foot with a hoe and died
of blood poisoning and such. i also know
there were times (i'm fairly certain) that
they did without food so the kids would
have something to eat. during these stories
sometimes it overwhelmed her and she would
stop talking and close her eyes and bow
her head and big tears would roll down
her cheeks. i would always feel about
knee high to a cricket, and my problems
weren't so big then :'(
 

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Wow, lots of great stories.


To this very day, we can't take my dad into a grocery store with us. His eyes immediately glaze over at the sight of all of the food, and he starts buying 5 pound bags of oranges, apples, raisins, tapioka, rice pudding mix, and all of those other depression era foods that were considered incredible treats for starving kids.




And, I know I've told this story before, but my dad has a two pronged scar in his belly. When I was a kid, I asked him if he had gotten it in the War. He said nope. That one day he came home from school, and his little sister was frying up the last egg in the house. He demanded half. She refused.




He reached in to the pan with a spoon and scooped out half the egg, laughing at her.




She stabbed him straight in the belly with a kitchen meat fork.




Luckily, it didn't penetrate his into his gut sack, only the stomach muscles, so no peritinitus. (****, antibiotics had not been invented anyway.)




Yep, tough times.




Mannyrock
 

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Learning how to can my own veggies. Try to stretch a buck as far as you can. Still re-use aluminum foil if it's not tore up. Take my foot off the gas pedal long before a light or stop sign. Both my parents grew up during the depression. We didn't have a lot of waste. Anything that could get re-used did. gypsyman
 

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gypsyman said:
Learning how to can my own veggies. Try to stretch a buck as far as you can. Still re-use aluminum foil if it's not tore up. Take my foot off the gas pedal long before a light or stop sign. Both my parents grew up during the depression. We didn't have a lot of waste. Anything that could get re-used did. gypsyman
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The collective memory of our nation is too small and fading out. We may need it real soon. ear
 

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blind said:
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The collective memory of our nation is too small and fading out. We may need it real soon. ear
[/color]

Thinking about the '70's when I gradjeeated from the public fool system.

Not much has improved since!
However, both my parents were/are old school - my dad's parents were born in 1895 and 96!

Most problems we complain about (IMHO), I think most often are found in the "cities."
 

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Couger said:
blind said:
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The collective memory of our nation is too small and fading out. We may need it real soon. ear
[/color]

Thinking about the '70's when I gradjeeated from the public fool system.

Not much has improved since!
However, both my parents were/are old school - my dad's parents were born in 1895 and 96!

Most problems we complain about (IMHO), I think most often are found in the "cities."
If we were able to eliminate all news generated within 75 miles of salt water it would sure be simple to read the paper.

Flyover country is not what this countries problems are about.


Sent via Pony Express rider through Indian country.
 

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Couger said:
Most problems we complain about (IMHO), I think most often are found in the "cities."
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The cities are what the masses will be running from
A tank of gas will get you from most any one big city to the next.
The problems will come to us no matter how far out we are.
 

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When I was a kid in the 1960s, my great aunt and uncle lived in Carbondale, Illinios a college town. They grew up in the country, and worked most of their adult lives in the apple orchard or a shoe factory. Then, when they hit 65, they bought a large old house in Carbondale, and rented out the three upstairs bedrooms to engineering students.


What was really interesting, though, was that they had a little back yard, about 1/8th of an acre, with a wooden fence around it. Their house was on a city lot.


That entire back yard, right up to the edge of every fence and the back of the house, was a vegetable garden. And I don't mean just low growing squash or bush tomatoes, I mean six foot tall rows of sweet corn and pole beans. Despite their age, they both spent about 2 hours a day, in that garden, weeding every row with a hoe.




And when those crops came in, my uncle picked and my aunt canned for about a week. Their entire basement was packed with shelves and shelves of canned vegetables from that garden.


The massive apple and peach orchards of Union county were not too far away, and they had relatives who owned those orchards. (These were my mother's cousins.) So, they were allowed to drive down to the orchards after the first "pick" and take any of the apples and peaches that were on the ground (hopefully not rotten). They would bring back about 5 bushels of each. It didn't matter whether the fruit was bruised or not, because my aunt would cut it all up and can those as well.


She made everything from scratch, including bread, biscuits and pies and cakes, so the only thing they bought from the grocery was the basics: salt, sugar, flour, lard, etc., plus paper goods. They also bought really really cheap meat and always had a stew pot going on a back burner.


Point is, they were never hungry, always had plenty of food. They lived this way until their mid eighties.


But them my poor Uncle went senile, and he would wander up and down the street picking everyone else's garden because he thought it was his own. My aunt would get a call from a neighbor yelling, "Helen, get down here right away. Burl's in my garden again!"




Mannyrock
 

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mannyrock said:
When I was a kid in the 1960s, my great aunt and uncle lived in Carbondale, Illinios a college town. They grew up in the country, and worked most of their adult lives in the apple orchard or a shoe factory. Then, when they hit 65, they bought a large old house in Carbondale, and rented out the three upstairs bedrooms to engineering students.
What was really interesting, though, was that they had a little back yard, about 1/8th of an acre, with a wooden fence around it. Their house was on a city lot.
That entire back yard, right up to the edge of every fence and the back of the house, was a vegetable garden. And I don't mean just low growing squash or bush tomatoes, I mean six foot tall rows of sweet corn and pole beans. Despite their age, they both spent about 2 hours a day, in that garden, weeding every row with a hoe.

And when those crops came in, my uncle picked and my aunt canned for about a week. Their entire basement was packed with shelves and shelves of canned vegetables from that garden.
The massive apple and peach orchards of Union county were not too far away, and they had relatives who owned those orchards. (These were my mother's cousins.) So, they were allowed to drive down to the orchards after the first "pick" and take any of the apples and peaches that were on the ground (hopefully not rotten). They would bring back about 5 bushels of each. It didn't matter whether the fruit was bruised or not, because my aunt would cut it all up and can those as well.She made everything from scratch, including bread, biscuits and pies and cakes, so the only thing they bought from the grocery was the basics: salt, sugar, flour, lard, etc., plus paper goods. They also bought really really cheap meat and always had a stew pot going on a back burner.
Point is, they were never hungry, always had plenty of food. They lived this way until their mid eighties.
But them my poor Uncle went senile, and he would wander up and down the street picking everyone else's garden because he thought it was his own. My aunt would get a call from a neighbor yelling, "Helen, get down here right away. Burl's in my garden again!"
Mannyrock
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Everyone needs a good partner and a good comunity.
 
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