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Some Ozarks memories Homemade hominy, long johns, flat irons Rolla
I remember: Drinking cream from a blue glass cream pitcher from my Grandma’s table. My Mom and Grandma making homemade hominy, cottage cheese, apple butter (in a copper kettle outside) and homemade egg noodles, the best! My eyes and nose burning from Mom and Grandma grinding roots to make horseradish. The gas Maytag washer that would hardly start. This took the place of washboards. The flat irons heating on the woodstove, which got so hot, scorched clothes were the norm. Later, the gas iron. Long johns frozen on the clothes line. My Dad making me wear long underwear with long brown stockings over them. Ugh! My grandma’s old ice box she used for storage. A good place to hide in except for the time the door slipped out of my hand and locked me in. Don’t remember who found me. But there was always a “slop” bucket for scraps outside the back door. They thought I had fallen in it. My Mom canning ribs and sausage because there was no refrigerator. And she sugar-cured the best hams. Loved that red-eye gravy. Just sharing some memories of the old timers. Many, many are in the back of my mind.
Quail for Thanksgiving By Judi Ann Hawkins Wilkins Edgar Springs As children growing up in a small four-room farmhouse in the Upper Parker community, we often had to depend on wildlife for meat. My dad, who was a sharpshooter, would kill all the quail he could, and mom would bake them with stuffing for our Thanksgiving. There were six of us in the family and our “dining area” consisted of a crude table with wooden benches on each side. Cows and horses mowed the grass and we swam in an unfiltered pond. Play time was in the barn and woods. We played evening games by a coal oil lamp and got ready to hit the north bedroom by warming our backsides by a wood stove. I remember mom boiling potato peels to make gravy. Our one-room school was close so no buses ran either. We could ride with the mailman to our local post office. If lucky, we might get a soda or some black licorice candy. One page can’t cover it all, but love abounded and we grew up to be good Ozarkians. |