Memories Of Our Grandparents' and Their Farms

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FARM FRESH MEMORIES OF OUR GRANDPARENTS: 

 

I remember playing in the ditch at Oklahoma grandma and grandpa's that ran in front of their farmhouse. It was especially fun when Grandpa turned on the irrigation well and the ditch became a muddy mess. We had a good ole mud slinging time then. We didn't dare go out to play without our shoes on though, for goat-head stickers were plentiful and hurt like the dickens to step on. 

Grandpa's big barn was the best place to be. They had barn cats that we sometimes got to feed and Grandpa kept extra eggs in a refrigerator in his farm office in the barn. We watched Grandpa milk cows and squirt milk into the barn cats mouths. 

Up in the barn loft we would arrange the hay bales into rooms and play house up there with our cousins. Grandpa helped me get up on a pony when I broke my right foot in senior high school before Thanksgiving that Christmas in the barn. No stirrups for me wearing a cast! 

 I remember Grandma's pork chops. They were so good! And her homemade, from scratch egg noodles. Mom disliked cooking and I grew up making convenience food from boxes except for dad's applesauce cake. 

My husband's Olean, Missouri grandmother showed me how to make bread from scratch and how to make mashed potatoes from real potatoes, not the dehydrated kind. She showed me how to cook turnips so they weren't bitter. My mother-in-law's homemade egg noodles are as good as my Oklahoma grandma's, but I have never mastered the art of making them. We used to bring home meat from my grandparents after a visit. David's Olean grandparents and parents sent home food with us after a visit. It was their way of loving us. I didn't understand that for a long time. 

When we went out to visit our Oklahoma grandparents during the summer, grandma's youngest brother nicknamed "Babe," would come out to visit for the afternoon from town eighteen miles away. Sometimes he would bring our second cousins with him and that meant more playmates! Our first cousins lived on the same farm as our grandparents and they and my siblings found all kinds of things to do on the farm, like go feed Grandpa's geese down at the pond in front of the barn or go play in the barn or in the old wooden granary buildings that were no longer used for that purpose (Grandpa had round metal Quonset huts that were more critter proof than the ones that we liked to play in). We also liked to play in an old cement car port next to the well-house that my Uncle used to drive his car up on two wooden beams cemented into the walls of the port to work on the motor. Us kids would make up "stew" in old 5 gallon metal paint cans with bits of leaves and water. I expect it rotted down into a smelly mess after we left it. I had never seen a stretch of land such as my grandparents had that was so good for catching toads as theirs was. They were everywhere and big un's too. Although, if you were able to catch one, they had a nasty habit of watering your legs and shoes down if you squeezed too hard. smile! Sometimes we'd go gather eggs from the hen house for grandma or play with the new spring kittens or sometimes Grandpa would go fetch a Shetland pony from the barn corral or out in the pasture and we would get to ride. Sometimes all of us kids would pile into Grandpa's pick-up in the back; mom, grandma and grandpa in front and bumpety-bump, go rabbit-hunting out in one of their pastures. 

I remember my Kansas grandfather standing in his living room in front of the piano and just swinging his arms back and forth while he twisted the trunk of his body. Funny what you remember. He liked to do that I guess. He was a farmer and wore blue overalls most of the week except for Sunday. Sunday he wore a nice dress shirt and tie with his Sunday suit to go to church in. 

Once, he told me to drive his pickup for him (stick shift) while he threw out hay for the cattle from the back. Then he sat down on the tailgate, just in case he said, so if I accidently ran into something,  he could jump out if he needed to. I didn't wreck his ole pick-up - I did good! smile!

My Oklahoma grandfather was a gentle man. He made pets of all his critters and I never saw him hit anyone until one day when we were climbing over the fence in his barn that separated the animal part from the garage part of the barn where he parked his pick-up. I began to climb over and my brother, impatient, pushed me as I began to swing my leg over. I lost my grip and did a face plant on the gravely dirt below. Grandpa immediately picked up my brother, gave him a good squat on the behind with his size 16 ring hand and told him that he wasn't to treat girls like that. My brother ran to mom to tattle on grandpa, crying all the way from the barn to the house and mom said to him, "If Grandpa swatted you, he must have had a good reason, so don't come crying to me." Yay! Grandpa, 1 point, Brother, none! 😁 I was always so grateful for Grandpa sticking up for me and teaching my bro some manners! 

This same set of grandparents came up to help my mom with all us children when we passed around the chickenpox one winter when we were of elementary school age. Grandma was in charge of the calamine lotion and she got to dot the itches away with the pink stuff. And boy, did the poxes itch! I also had a birthday during that time. What a way to spend a birthday! At least it was memorable!

My Kansas grandmother had bookshelves full of books in her living room. Most of them resided around the corners of her picture window that faced the dirt road out in front. I loved to read her missionary books. She used to make pretty wedding cakes for many of the young couples getting married in their country neighborhood and she saved that money to contribute to missions that the Church of God supported. My grandparents shopped most often in Satanta, Garden City, Liberal, and sometimes in Dodge City, Kansas, however, a lot of their dry goods came from catalogs that came in the mail or what we called wish books. I remember looking through some of them. Grandpa and later grandma kept them on a TV tray stand next to their lazy boy chair in the living room. 

My Oklahoma grandparents had a wonderful postcard collection that they kept in a big shoebox upstairs in a closet in their old two story home. I loved looking through it  when they lived there. Many of the postcards were from extended family members that sent Christmas postcard greetings, vacation "wish you were here" notes, and some were postcards they had collected from gift shops while on vacation as little mementoes of their trips. Sadly, the whole collection was stolen from the old house just after they moved into their new house while they were shopping in town to pick up groceries. The closest town was 18 miles away, so the thief had plenty of time to get in, look round and take what he/she wanted. The new house was a next door neighbor to the old house on the farm. It wasn't long after that, that the old house was sold and trucked to town. In that part of the country, wood is scarce to come by for building and expensive to ship in, so houses are often lifted from their foundations and taken to a new site. I loved that old house with all the interesting nooks and crannies to explore.

Grandma and Grandpa often shopped in Elkhart and Liberal, Kansas; Guymon, Oklahoma, or Amarillo, Texas. While in town, they would stop in to visit brothers or sisters and get a bite to eat before heading home. 

My maternal and paternal first cousins' parents built their homes on my grandparents' farms. Two of my uncles decided to remain on the farm and help my grandparents farm their land, so when we went to visit, there was always two extra playmates around. I was the oldest of four, so they took equal delight in having somebody to play with also.  We made the one way, 8 hour pilgrimage drive twice a year -- during summer and Christmas school vacations. 

One day, the youngest maternal cousin and I were bored and looking for something to do. She suggested that we go gather some of the rotten goose eggs from the farm pond and throw them into the farm trash dump to see what they would do. We got them and there -- I was standing behind her when suddenly she banged two of the eggs together hard and they exploded in her face. I got bits of rotten egg slime in my hair. The stench almost made her sick on the spot and we ran for our respective houses. It took us almost all afternoon of constant washing to get the smell off us. PU! 👃😝

My Kansas grandmother had a tall glass ginger jar with a lid on it. It was full of dried rose petals and smelled spicy like cloves. It sat on the dresser in her guest bedroom. I always wanted a jar of memories too.

I asked my Kansas grandmother for a pair of grandpa's blue jean overalls when he passed away. I decorated the bib and pockets with embroidered flowers. I felt close to grandpa when I wore them. 

We went to church with my grandparents when we visited. Kansas grandparents attended the Pleasant Prairie Church of God and my Oklahoma grandparents attended the Elkhart Church of God. We enjoyed meeting cousins and old friends there. 

I shared a story with my pastor several weeks ago, one my grandmother told me about putting a light in the window at night out on the prairie. She said that light could be seen for miles out on the dark flat prairies of Kansas and Oklahoma and said it was a beacon to a cold weary traveler and welcomed them to shelter. She said back in those days, farmers looked out for their neighbors and helped them when they could.  My pastor used the illustration in a sermon recently -- click here -- to listen to his sermon on YouTube. 

When I turned sixteen, my Kansas grandmother gave me a complete set of white china banded in gold. That was the beginning of my hope chest. My Oklahoma grandmother embroidered and crocheted edging on several pillowslips, crocheted doilies and gave me an afghan she had crocheted for me to put in it as well.

When hubby and I became engaged, his grandmother who lived in Henley, Missouri, crocheted a large white lacy tablecloth to go under my china set. It was a true labor of love on her part for I have no idea how long it took her to make it. 

My Oklahoma grandmother, knowing my love of vintage things, told me there was a old iron double-sized bed frame down in an unlived-in house on land they farmed and if I wanted it for our first bed together to go get it. So my hubby-to-be and I dragged it out of the house and took it home with us. We had it sand-blasted and repainted it and it was our bed for many years.

My in-laws-to-be purchased the mattress and box springs for that iron bed. My mother-in-law also crocheted doilies for our first home, a duplex, and hosted our wedding rehearsal dinner. She later made us a quilt for our bed. 

My first memory involves my Kansas grandmother and I. She and I were in her bedroom and she pointed up to a picture on her wall. She told me that was Jesus. Later I said my first word, Gee-gee (Jesus). Mom said she knew it was a word because I was pointing up at a picture of Jesus on the wall with my pudgy little finger while she was changing me. I'm forever grateful that Grandma introduced me to Gee-gee!

My Oklahoma grandmother would save up her S & H Green stamps for our visits. She and I would sit at the table and we would glue in all the extra stamps she had into her books. I don't know if she ever redeemed them for she never told me what she got with them, but I always had a nice time chatting with her. 

One of my blessings was being able to live with my buddy Oklahoma Grandmother the last year of her life. One of the sweetest memories I have of her is the duet that she sang with our son after her stroke. They sang "Jesus Loves Me, This I Know" together. 

My first Bible was given to me for Christmas by my Kansas grandmother. It was the King James Version and its cover was white leather with my name inscribed in gold in the lower right hand side. It was beautiful! 

Our son was semi-crawling by the time he was five months old. We went down to visit my Oklahoma grandparents and we told him not to get in grandma's dog, Casey's face, but he did it anyway. Yep, you guessed it - the dog bit his nose. Our son's very first words were: "dum dog!"

When our son was of kindergarten age, we used to call him "sonny boy" or "Punkin" as a term of endearment. One day , he came home from school and announced that he wanted to be called "sweetheart" instead of "punkin." So giving my husband the heads up when he got home that day, we did our best to please him. A few days later, our son said he wanted his old name back. He missed it! 🥰

After our son was born, we called all the grandparents and great-grandparents by their grandma or pa title, plus their first names, for all of them were still alive at that time except one, my Kansas grandpa who has passed away in 1977. Our son had a special name though for one of his paternal great-grandpa's and everyone knew who he was talking about when he said "the grandpa with a tractor," cause that grandpa had a big red Farmall tractor. 

Every Friday was my Oklahoma Grandma's hair-do day. She and grandpa would get up early and head into town after breakfast and morning chores were done. She would visit the hairdresser and get her hair gussied up, then they would go to the El Rancho restaurant in town to buy lunch. Sometimes they would stop to visit her brother and his family for a couple of hours or go pick up groceries or whatever they needed in town. I got to go shopping with them several times, so I pretty much knew the routine. Then they would head home which was about 18-20 miles from town.

Grandma loved flowers and had them planted in her yard around the house. She especially liked irises. 

Went with my Oklahoma Grandpa and cousin to a circus once in Amarillo, Texas. It was a LONG drive and mostly what I remember was the parade of the performers and animals at the beginning of the show. It was the Barnum and Bailey Circus. 

My Kansas grandmother showed us a game using a thimble called "Hide the Thimble." Someone is it and everyone else goes out of the room. "It" hides the thimble in plain sight somewhere in the room. The thimble cannot be hidden behind or under something, but in plain sight from any corner of the room. When "It" calls okay, then everyone comes back into the room and stands in the middle of the room. The first person who spies the thimble, is the next "It" who hides the thimble. If "It" hides the thimble so well that nobody can find it, then "It" can give clues like, "You are warm" meaning they are close to the thimble and if they are next to it and still don't see it, then they are hot. If they move away, then they are getting cold. It's a lot of fun and I taught the game to my in-law's family.

My Oklahoma grandmother had a button box with her sewing supplies. She cut off the buttons from grandpa's old shirts and kept the extras from sewing projects. I loved sifting through them and looking at all the interesting and pretty vintage and modern button treasures she had in that box. I keep my buttons in jars and they are divided into two jars, one for white buttons and one for colored. I have purchased many of my buttons from thrift stores, garage sales and Walmart. Comes in handy as the package roller conveyor in the warehouse where hubby works eats them like candy.

My Kansas grandmother complained that she didn't catch the doorbell when people made deliveries, so the next time we went to visit her, dad brought his tools with him and wired in a security alarm bell to her doorbell inside the house. I remember the first time he rang the doorbell to test it, everyone in the house about jumped out of their skins. She didn't have a bit of trouble hearing the doorbell thereafter! LOL! 

When I got older, at times I got to stay with my Oklahoma grandmother by myself. Once I caught a train one summer and rode all night, sleepy, but afraid I'd miss my stop, to visit grandma and grandpa. They picked me up at the train station in Dodge City, KS and I got to stay with them for a week and then they took me back to Dodge City to get on the train to go home. I so enjoyed my visit with my grandparents. It was scary and fun all at the same time. Another time, I was invited to stay with my grandparents after my mother, my siblings, and I had already been there for a month summer visit. I can't remember why, but my mother had to go back home, so she left some money with my grandmother to take me to town to pick out some shoes for school. I was pretty excited about that as I had been wanting a pair of saddle oxfords for some time. So, Friday came, my grandparent's usual shopping day (I have described it in some detail above) and after grandma got gussied up (the hairdresser sure was taking her sweet time getting grandma's hair done) and we had lunch, we set out for the shoe store. As I wandered around the store, grandma made her selection for me. When she called me over to try on the shoes, I looked in disgust at the shoes she had picked out. They were OLD LADY SHOES! Grandma had in hand, two black, lace-up oxfords. I said, "Grandma, I wanted saddle oxfords!" Grandma said, "Your mother said to get you oxfords and that is what you are going to get!" I was sure there was a mix-up somewhere and I showed grandma the shoes I wanted. She shook her head and insisted the shoes she held was what my mother told her to get. I went home, upset with my old lady shoes. Mom couldn't afford to replace them, and I had to endure the laughs of the kids at school at the sight of those ugly shoes. Imagine today, I'm still wearing black old lady shoes, except instead of laces, I have 3 Velcro straps across the shoes, and one shoe is built up as the doctors discovered one of my legs was short! Perhaps they can fix that when I get new knee joints.  

My Oklahoma grandmother taught me to crochet, then my Kansas grandmother showed me Christmas cards framed in crochet, so I learned how to make them. I have the pattern on my craft blog (click here). 

My Kansas grandmother's middle name was Esther and my Oklahoma grandmother's middle name was Hester. Neither one liked their middle names. When I was pregnant with our son, I would tease them and tell them I was going to name my girl after them -- Esther Hester or Hester Esther. They were horrified that I would do that to their great-granddaughter. And then with a twinkle in my eye, I would tell them that I would be honoring them by naming my daughter after them. 

My husband's grandmother showed me how to par-boil bitter vegetables to get the bitter out. Take turnips for instance. She cut the stem and root ends off, peeled and sliced them, and placed them in a saucepan with water covering them.  She said to par-boil them in water for about 10 minutes and then drain them, and all the bitter would go down the sink with the water. Then she covered them with water again, boiled them until fork soft, added a chunk of butter to the water and removed them from the fire. They were good at special dinners such as Christmas. 

I remember going with my Oklahoma grandpa and my mother to get his first glucose meter after he had been diagnosed with diabetes. He decided he had to come to the big city to get a machine, for his nearby small Oklahoma town didn't offer much.  I was visibly pregnant with our son. In those days, you had to have a prescription and the meter was a box that had to sit on a table or nightstand. Grandpa finally settled on a machine, but the technician had to show him how to use it. With diabetes, you must test your glucose blood sugar to make sure it stays even through-out the day or you could be in a heap of trouble with other disorders if it wasn't. He got stuck with a lancet (a small needle) and then for the hooey of it, I got stuck, not once, but twice when she thought her machine was malfunctioning, because I was low at 40 pts. Normal levels are between 70 and 100 pts.  She made me sit down and ran to get me an orange juice. The gal said, "I don't know how you are still standing, but as low as your blood sugar is, you need to sit down before you fall down, and you need something sweet like a banana or orange juice to bring your blood sugar back up to normal."  After I drank the orange juice and sat there awhile, then she stuck me again to make sure my levels had come back up. Yep, much better! After that, Grandpa decided that we both needed to eat, so, he treated us to lunch. I had been feeling intensely hungry and wobbly before we entered the store, but I had no idea how low my blood sugars were until the technician decided to prick my finger. 

And now you can buy the meter, the size of a cell phone and the stuff that goes with it without a prescription over the counter at Walmart. A lot can happen in 3o some years, huh?

Here's something my grandmother made from a bunch of GI Joe dolls. My uncle made the long table out in his workshop and now my mother displays it every year at Easter on top of her piano.

I was reminded today of two of the jellies my Oklahoma grandmother made every year when I went outside to get into the car for church this morning. They were definitely unusual, but delicious on buttered toast. She made dandelion jelly in the spring and corncob jelly in late summer. I don't know if Grandma made salad from the dandelion greens or not, but she stored the jelly she made downstairs in her basement and would bring up a jar or two when we came to visit. My mother-in-law and hubby's paternal grandmother loved making jellies and preserves. The first time I had pumpkin butter, it was made by hubby's paternal grandmother and spread over her homemade bread, toasted and buttered. Yum! I tried making mulberry jelly one time in early marriage and I guess I overcooked it, for it set up hard in the jam jars. The next time I tried it, it came out syrupy and we used it over pancakes. I had better success with the rhubarb-berry jelly recipe that my husband's paternal aunt gave me. It had Jell-O gelatin added to it to help it set up instead of the usual powdered pectin. Pretty good stuff Maynard! 

Both of my grandpa's were farmers and their hands often got chapped and dry. They would wash up as soon as they came into the house. My Kansas grandfather, if he was smelly from barn odors, would take a quick shower that stood next to his sink on their back porch/mud room and then throw his clothes into the washing machine that was on the other side of the upright deep freezer that stood next to the tiny shower room. Grandma kept a clean towel and house-robe for him hanging on a hook on the back of the shower door. After washing his hands though, he liked to use Cornhuskers Lotion. 

My Oklahoma grandfather had a little green tin of Udder Balm sitting on the sink where he washed his hands after coming in from the barn or the fields. Udder Balm was usually used on cow's udder to keep it soft in order for her calf to nurse or to be milked, but grandpa liked how it softened his hands too, to keep them from becoming raw and cracked. 

My dad, however, liked Chamberlain's Lotion for his hands as he was a air conditioning and heating serviceman and he usually out in all weathers on top of a commercial building or deep underground in a basement tinkering with a boiler or furnace. 

 

More to Read:

Treasured Memories. 

 Updated: 9/29/2022. Post written by Dolores J. Rush.