Farmall Cub

When I was young(im 49) my family lived on my grandma's small farm. We raised vegetables and chickens. What a serene and pleasant time of my live it was. Never knew my grandpa,he was gone way before I was born. Grandma was one of the hardest working people I have ever known.She would always seem to know how to mix work and fun.Sunday was always a special day too,all the relatives would converge on the farm for dinner.We had a dining room table ,I swear was 20 feet long.Always alot of veggies and of course chicken.I remember running between all the kins cars and seeing that everyone left there keys in them.As far as the farmhouse,we didn't even have a lock on the door.Im sure as money went we were poor,but we didn't know it.Sorry for ramblin,but is sure was a special time of my life-badbrad

I know what you mean about those memories. When our family got together at my grandparents the only cars without the keys in them were relatives from the city. On our farm the keys were either in the vehicles or under the dash. the neighbors all knew where they were (theirs were in the same place) and it was common practice that if you needed the use of a vehicle or tractor, you just went and got it, leaving what ever you used to get there (we all knew each others trucks and tractors), or a note if no one was home.

Yes!
We still are privileged to be "the farm" that is the home base for my siblings and our kids.
I have moved all the way across the road in my lifetime. Slight detour for P.U. and Uncle Sam.
Our kids had the luxury of having both Mom & Dad at home as needed. They are very aware that they had different home circumstances than most of their schoolmates. All their buddies congregated here!
No vehicles w/out keys, no locks on anything.
Also, if you misbehaved at school, your parents knew it before you got home. And the consequences at school were milder than those waiting at home. We could use that again...

Larry:

Boy did you get that right on the head. At home, if we messed up at school, the principal was our least concern. The "wait until your father gets home" spiel put the fear of God into us. Not that Dad was an ogre, but boy a cuff upside the head or with whatever was handy meant you didn't soon forget the lesson learned.

With my Grand-dad, he never raised his voice or his hand, he just raised his eyebrows. That was worse than a cuff upside the head, cause it meant you disappointed him. I think his way was the better way, cause it really made you think of what you did to cause his disappointment instead of concentrating on the ache in your skull!

And you are right, we could use a lot of the old days now. Way too much of this equal rights garbage - seems the kids are really good at working the system and instead of obeying their parents, they demand that their wants be fulfilled as a right instead of as a priviledge that is earned.

Oh well - that's progress I guess.

The best part about my grandparents farm though, was all the family get-togethers and Grandma's cooking. The yard would be filled with all the relatives cars. They would all come up to Hoyle from Sudbury, Espanola, North Bay, Conniston and places in between. It was always a great time. And we never saw anyone pocket their keys either, no reason to. Those days are long gone, even here in the Maritimes as well. What a shame!

Yes I can remember my Grandmothers farm also. Rural calhoun Co WV.
Ground so poor you had to sit on a bag fertilizer to raise an Umbershoot.
The hills were so steep the work horses had to have chains on the shoes.

But however that OL GAL could cook thats for sure. Sunday dinner was usually 3-4 fried chickens fresh killed. She would stand in the Kitchen door and shoot three or four in the head with a 22 single shot. I now own the gun she used. I would run out and gather up the shot chickens and run back with them. After all the steaming and etc to reduce the feather population. She would cut them up with a big ol knife. Fried them on a wood stove in a skillet that covered half the stove top. She fried chicken
in fresh cow butter. Ah the memories of granny. Rev jim

Rev Jim, Your memories made me think of years ago when I was 7-8 years old. We were visiting my aunt in Morgan County, KY. We also had fresh chicken for supper. I'll never forget watching my aunt taking 2 chickens, 1 in each hand, and wringed their necks off. You know, they hit the ground running, for a while. If you're interested, somrtime I'll tell how my uncle showed me the proper way to measure a pig's tail. Those were the days!
ljw

You fellows are making me hungry . I was raised up on a hardtime farm in southern Alberta in the 40's & early 50's. I used to go out with the old 12 ga. and shoot Hungarian partridge and Pheasant for my Mom. Even pidgeon once in awhile. Mom would put the pheasant in the middle with 5 or 6 partridge around the outside in an big old blue banged up enamel roaster and cooked in an old coal stove with the copper boiler on the side. She'd also have sweet potatoe and before the birds were cooked she'd chuck in a mess a fresh veggie's.The white gravy she made was so good I get to sucking the water out of teeth just thinking about it.Homemade cranberry jelly was from heaven. If corn was in season we'd have that along with it. Fresh homemade buttermilk ( ice cold from the ice house) and cold cottage cheese. Baking powder biscuits with homemade butter and a big slab of ruhbarb pie and sometimes homemade vanilla ice cream.
And that was just an old normal farm meal that no one even though twice about, but we always pitched in with the dishes after supper.When I got a little older I was allowed to have a small glass of Chokecherry or Dandylion wine with the men after supper. Imagine what that meal would cost today, if you could find it anywhere.

My wife and I are lucky enough to be living on the same farm her parents have worked for over 50 years....my 2 sons play in the same barn and dirt their Mother did....and yes the big 14 room farmhouse is "the place" for all celebrations and family get togethers....can't begin to put a price on all that.