I can recall Mom & both grandmothers making lard at times. Cooking pork fat down slowly in a canning pot over several hours, straining it off the cracklings, and putting it into pint or (mainly) quart jars, and putting the jars into the root cellar (which was buried in the yard, or under the house). The lard was kept cool, but never refrigerated. I also remember Grampo, Dad & Dean killing a hog (or a steer) around this time of year, and hanging it in the walnut tree, west of the big corn crib, & south of Grammo & Grampo's house to cool, before butchering it (& that's where the pork fat for lard came from).
— Rick Artist
I presume you remember Grammo & Grampo's two story old house before they tore it down & moved the little ranch house 100 yards up the hill & put it on the same site? The little ranch house was where Dad & Mom, I & Craig (& maybe Randy?) first lived.
Anyhow, do you remember that Grammo cooked on a wood burning iron stove, and the only indoor plumbing was the hand pump in the kitchen? And if you slept over at Grammo's, it was either the outhouse, a little bit north & east of the house--OR the chamberpot--& both were pretty cold on the behind (& smelly!).
And do you remember the red, orange & green plywood parrot that hung on the wall in the stairs to the second level? AND Grampo's office, with the big roll-top desk, & his jar of mints? AND the "Tricky Dogs" he kept in the desk? Small iron magnetic Scottish terriers, one white & one black--that you could make spin around & around if you had the right distance & touch, but would snap together if you got too close? I spent many an hour with the tricky dogs!
— Rick Artist
We've been pretty cold here the last week or so--most days highs only up to about freezing, most early mornings with single digit, or teen temps. (But should hit a high of 50-52 today.)
It puts me in mind of the cold we often had back in Iowa, growing up. Once there was snow on the ground, sometimes in late November, always by mid Dec--it stayed until at least March. And I still remember the cold toes/feet & fingers despite gloves, rubber boots over shoes, coveralls and several sweaters/shirts to the point you could scarcely move with so many clothes on. There was good snow sledding out in the pasture--and on some the dirt roads--on the steeper hills (if the snow wasn't too deep for the metal runners on the sleds). We still had chores to do despite the cold. We had to make the rounds to the barn & hog houses to make sure they had dry bedding, food & water--& move the manure/wet bedding out with an old grain scoop, or a pitchfork. Those structures were where the animals kept it significantly warmer with their body heat. It was a relief to get inside the barn--even though it stank to high heaven--especially the hog houses. The cattle had a big water tank that required breaking the ice, and then building a fire in the tank heater to keep the ice from reforming--for a few hours. There was one winter that had a couple week spell of minus 20 lows, and daily highs still below zero. (I think you guys had escaped to Alabama before THAT winter). BBBRrrrr!
Thinking about the cattle tank--I recall Dean, (your Dad, my uncle) keeping a couple/several large bullheads (fish) in the cattle tank by the barn below & south of Grampo & Grammo's house. He'd caught them in Troublesome Creek a few yards away through a foot square hole in the center of the bridge that allowed access to the other side of the creek.
The bullheads liked to stay in the shade of the bridge--even in that muddy water. A piece of string, a hook, a weight & a worm (sometimes a bobber, sometimes a stick for a rod)--and you were fishing! He/we would put the fish in the cattle tank to get rid of the "muddy" taste they had if they were cleaned & eaten right away.
Occasionally he'd catch one of them with his hands and show it to us kids. He'd put his hands down to the bottom of the tank, along the edge and wait. The fish would eventually work their way around the bottom of the tank, nosing for food, or looking for a new place to go, and put themselves into his hands, and he'd grab one (hopefully not getting "horned"), pull it out, and show it off. Much fun!!
I also remember cleaning the bullheads (like a small catfish). He (or Dad) would get a wooden board. Then take a fish off the stringer (or out of a bucket) and drive a 12-16 penny nail through the fish's head into the board (usually with a pair of regular pliers). Next he'd make a shallow cut with his penknife circumstantially around the fish just behind the head/gills. Then he'd grab the edge of the fish's skin with the pliers where he'd made the cut and strip the skin off (like a sock off your foot. The pliers were essential--no way could you hang onto the skin, or strip it off, with anything else). With the skin off, he'd cut the head off, push out the guts with a thumb, pull the nail from the board--and repeat until all the fish were cleaned. Made for a tasty supper that evening.
—Rick Artist