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Winter was winding down. The days had gradually been growing longer and the sun was warming the earth a little more each day. Lady Spring was bound to be rousing from her slumber before long, painting the Southeastern Kentucky hillsides with the fresh green of new leaves, the purple-pink blossoms of redbud, and the lovely white of dogwood!
Dave had noticed the dwindling lines of filled jars in Nancy’s canning closet being replaced with lines of empty jars. He was anxious to get this year’s garden started. The bounty of that garden would provide his family with fresh produce over the summer as well as replenish their stock of canned goods for the lean times of winter.
Partners in crime among other things;
Old Jim; one of Dave's later mules
The next day, Dave hooked up a harrow behind the mule. The harrow looked similar to a V made by attaching two lengths of 4X4 lumber together in a V shape with about four feet left between the widest part of the legs of the V. Metal spikes extended out from the down side of the V. The harrow would be pulled by the mule over the already turned ground and the spikes would break the big clods down into smaller clods. Again, the mule pulled the harrow in a line up the garden. A handle extending from the harrow allowed Dave to turn it on its side at the end of each row so the mule could easier turn before returning in another line down the next row. In the future, the family would be able to replace the harrow with a disc, but for now, they were happy to have the harrow.
Next, the harrow would be replaced by a drag, a platform of heavy wood that Dave would stand on as the mule once again went up one line and down another. The drag served to further break up the clods of dirt so that the garden spot would be smoothed and readied to plant.
The family planted lettuce seed early in a narrow bed that had a canvas cover that could be pulled over it. This canvas protected the tender shoots as they emerged from the warming earth should an unexpected frost surprise the family. Arsh potatoes, cabbages, and onions could tolerate a bit of cold and were planted next. They were planted within the neat lines of earth that the bull tongue plow had left in its wake.
Corn could tolerate a bit of cold and so lines of corn were planted using a jab planter. A lot of the corn was planted in lines worked up along narrow flattened areas or benches notched in the hillsides. This corn would be growing nearly parallel to the steep hillside.
After around May 10th, when hopefully the threat of frost was past, the family would plant lines of green beans, tomatoes, cucumbers,… As Lady Spring made a full claim on her season, the temperatures became progressively warmer, and spring showers provided the necessary moisture for those seeds to sprout. Those sprouts pushed up through the soft earth and began to grow ever taller. Lines of beautiful green were welcome sights to Dave and Nancy who knew that the family’s very survival depended upon those green lines. Weeds and grass would grow up in the balk between the planted lines and Dave would have the mule pull the plow up the balk, turning the weeds under to smother them under the ground. The family; Dave, Nancy, and all of the children would use hoes to rid the planted rows of weeds. They could not afford to let weeds smother out their food.
At times, spring rains seemed reluctant to come. On those occasions, both Dave and Nancy would look at the withering lines of tender green plants and then off to the horizon longing to see dark clouds rolling in. When their gaze was greeted only by spring sunshine, lines would furrow their brows. The lines of empty jars in the canning closet had to be replaced with lines of canned foodstuffs. The family had little money and depended upon their garden to put food on the table. Too little rain, too much rain, a late frost could all furrow their brows with lines of worry.
Usually, the rains would come and those tender new shoots would perk up and grow and grow. The family members continued to hoe the lines of vegetables in order to keep the weeds at bay. I’m sure that those lines of beans and other vegetables must have seemed to be mighty long rows to hoe for Dave and Nancy’s young’uns. I imagine that they longed to trade the heat of the sunny garden to wade in the cool shade of the nearby creek. There were tadpoles and crawdaddies there waiting to be caught and dragonflies flit about with ethereal iridescent wings. Yes, hoeing those long lines of vegetables must have seemed a never-ending if necessary chore.
And in due time, those lines of green, were producing; beans, taters, tomatoes, cucumbers… The veggies would be harvested as they came in and the family could enjoy fresh produce from their garden picked at just the point of perfection!
While Dave and the boys were out and about performing all of the chores necessary to run their small farm, Nancy and the girls were inside preparing a delicious meal of new potatoes cooked in a big mess of green beans with a piece of salt pork in it. Juicy red tomatoes were sliced, plated, and put on the table. Cucumbers were sliced, filling the air with their refreshing scent. Green onions had been washed and placed next to the cucumbers. The iron skillet had been pulled from the oven and Nancy had turned cornbread onto a plate and sliced it into pieces. A dish that held Nancy’s homemade butter was placed next to the bread. A small bowl holding salt was placed on the table and Dave’s shaker of salt substitute was beside his plate.
Nancy went out to the porch and called, “Dinner’s ready; time to eat!”
Dave and the boys came inside, Dave washed his hands with Lava soap and the boys lined up behind him and did the same. The delicious smell of dinner was making them anxious to eat. They all crowded around the table to partake of Nancy’s fine but simple food. As they ate, Davilee began to tease Hortense about that young man that had visited their church. “I think you were making eyes at that cute John Allen, Sis.”
“Sam, you take that back, I was doing no such thing!”
“I reckon that I saw you, Sis. Didn’t you see her, Wallace?”
“Now, young’uns, don’t let your mouths stop your vittles. Pipe down and finish your dinner.” Dave admonished.
The kids finished their meal.
Over the summer, the lines of vegetables produced a bounty of fresh vegetables to eat and also to preserve for winter. The kids and Nancy spent hours harvesting the produce. Then Nancy spent even more time washing empty jars, readying them for being refilled. While she washed the jars, the kids went around the farm gathering branches and piling them beside the number three washtub that Nancy had placed outside over a fire pit.
After the jars were clean, Nancy and the girls filled the jars to near the top with green beans that had been strung, broken, and washed. Then Nancy carefully put a teaspoon of salt over the beans in each jar and fill them with boiling water that had been carried in from the well and boiled on top of the stove. Nancy ran a knife around the edge of each jar to release any air pockets and then wiped around the top with a rag before twisting on the lids. She lined up the jars in a number three washtub out in the yard, placing an old quilt carefully between the jars to keep them from bumping together and bursting. Then Nancy and the kids poured water into the tub until it was filled and the jars were covered.
Nancy used the wood gathered by the children to start a fire under the washtub. She carefully tended the fire, adding wood as needed, and noted when the water in the pan started boiling. She tended the fire for about four more hours. After that, the canned goods would be carefully placed in lines on the porch until they were cool. Then Nancy would gently tap around the rim to make sure the jar sealed.
Other produce from the garden was preserved, as well as fruit from the fruit trees that lined their orchard area, strawberries from lines of strawberry plants, and blackberries gathered from the wild blackberries growing on the hillsides. All of these foodstuffs were dried, pickled, stored in the root cellar, or made into preserves or butter, or were boiled in the washtub outside for a few hours and then lined up on the porch to cool.
After cooling, the jars were carried in by Nancy to her canning closet. There the lines of empty jars were replaced by lines of beautifully filled jars. Nancy’s canning closet seemed almost like a jewelry box filled with colorful gems; the green of beans, the red of tomatoes, the deep purple of blackberry preserves, the gold of peach butter… The shelves were lined once more with the harvests of the time of bounty, ready to sustain the family during the winter.
Those lines or rows in the garden that had seemed such long rows to hoe, had transformed Nancy’s canning closet from a closet filled with lines of empty jars into a jewelry box filled with lines of beautiful, life-giving gems. Those lines that had furrowed brows with worry during periods of uncooperative weather had been replaced by smile lines lifting up the corners of lips and crinkling the corners of eyes.
Young Dave Smith
Young Nancy Middleton Smith
Dave had cleaned out the barn a couple weeks back. He had shoveled the manure from the barn into the wooden sled that the mules later pulled to the garden spot. There, he had spread the manure over the garden as a natural fertilizer.
Today was a nice day to plow. Ten-year-old Wallace helped his dad with the collars, hames, chains, the trees, and all of the rigging as they hooked up the mules, Matt and Kate, to the plow. Six-year-old Doris was helping as much as he could.
“Dad, can I do the plowing, pleeeeease?”, Wallace asked.
“Can I help too?” piped in Doris.
“Sons, I think that I need to do the turning. Wallace, you might be able to help later with the bull-tongue plow. Doris, don’t worry, you will have plenty of ways to help too. Now, let me get this plowing started before the winter comes around again and we have nothing to show for the summer.”
Today was a nice day to plow. Ten-year-old Wallace helped his dad with the collars, hames, chains, the trees, and all of the rigging as they hooked up the mules, Matt and Kate, to the plow. Six-year-old Doris was helping as much as he could.
“Dad, can I do the plowing, pleeeeease?”, Wallace asked.
“Can I help too?” piped in Doris.
“Sons, I think that I need to do the turning. Wallace, you might be able to help later with the bull-tongue plow. Doris, don’t worry, you will have plenty of ways to help too. Now, let me get this plowing started before the winter comes around again and we have nothing to show for the summer.”
Partners in crime among other things;
Donald Doris Smith and Wallace Smith
Dave patiently clucked and the mules began their way up the garden turning the dun-colored dry earth into rich brown moist mounds. He geed and hawed until the mules had completed the task and the garden spot was lined in furrowed rows.
Dave patiently clucked and the mules began their way up the garden turning the dun-colored dry earth into rich brown moist mounds. He geed and hawed until the mules had completed the task and the garden spot was lined in furrowed rows.
Old Jim; one of Dave's later mules
The next day, Dave hooked up a harrow behind the mule. The harrow looked similar to a V made by attaching two lengths of 4X4 lumber together in a V shape with about four feet left between the widest part of the legs of the V. Metal spikes extended out from the down side of the V. The harrow would be pulled by the mule over the already turned ground and the spikes would break the big clods down into smaller clods. Again, the mule pulled the harrow in a line up the garden. A handle extending from the harrow allowed Dave to turn it on its side at the end of each row so the mule could easier turn before returning in another line down the next row. In the future, the family would be able to replace the harrow with a disc, but for now, they were happy to have the harrow.
Next, the harrow would be replaced by a drag, a platform of heavy wood that Dave would stand on as the mule once again went up one line and down another. The drag served to further break up the clods of dirt so that the garden spot would be smoothed and readied to plant.
Finally, it was time to hook up the bull-tongued plow behind Matt. This plow was lighter than the turning plow and Wallace would get his chance to plow the garden. As Wallace grew up, he would be able to take over the turning plow work from his dad and Doris could work the bull-tongue. Everyone worked toward the family’s survival on the farm; each according to their age and abilities.
After the final plowing with the bull-tongue plow, the garden spot was lined with rows of furrows with flattened spaces between the furrows that the family called the balk. It was time to plant the seeds.
After the final plowing with the bull-tongue plow, the garden spot was lined with rows of furrows with flattened spaces between the furrows that the family called the balk. It was time to plant the seeds.
The family planted lettuce seed early in a narrow bed that had a canvas cover that could be pulled over it. This canvas protected the tender shoots as they emerged from the warming earth should an unexpected frost surprise the family. Arsh potatoes, cabbages, and onions could tolerate a bit of cold and were planted next. They were planted within the neat lines of earth that the bull tongue plow had left in its wake.
Corn could tolerate a bit of cold and so lines of corn were planted using a jab planter. A lot of the corn was planted in lines worked up along narrow flattened areas or benches notched in the hillsides. This corn would be growing nearly parallel to the steep hillside.
After around May 10th, when hopefully the threat of frost was past, the family would plant lines of green beans, tomatoes, cucumbers,… As Lady Spring made a full claim on her season, the temperatures became progressively warmer, and spring showers provided the necessary moisture for those seeds to sprout. Those sprouts pushed up through the soft earth and began to grow ever taller. Lines of beautiful green were welcome sights to Dave and Nancy who knew that the family’s very survival depended upon those green lines. Weeds and grass would grow up in the balk between the planted lines and Dave would have the mule pull the plow up the balk, turning the weeds under to smother them under the ground. The family; Dave, Nancy, and all of the children would use hoes to rid the planted rows of weeds. They could not afford to let weeds smother out their food.
At times, spring rains seemed reluctant to come. On those occasions, both Dave and Nancy would look at the withering lines of tender green plants and then off to the horizon longing to see dark clouds rolling in. When their gaze was greeted only by spring sunshine, lines would furrow their brows. The lines of empty jars in the canning closet had to be replaced with lines of canned foodstuffs. The family had little money and depended upon their garden to put food on the table. Too little rain, too much rain, a late frost could all furrow their brows with lines of worry.
Usually, the rains would come and those tender new shoots would perk up and grow and grow. The family members continued to hoe the lines of vegetables in order to keep the weeds at bay. I’m sure that those lines of beans and other vegetables must have seemed to be mighty long rows to hoe for Dave and Nancy’s young’uns. I imagine that they longed to trade the heat of the sunny garden to wade in the cool shade of the nearby creek. There were tadpoles and crawdaddies there waiting to be caught and dragonflies flit about with ethereal iridescent wings. Yes, hoeing those long lines of vegetables must have seemed a never-ending if necessary chore.
And in due time, those lines of green, were producing; beans, taters, tomatoes, cucumbers… The veggies would be harvested as they came in and the family could enjoy fresh produce from their garden picked at just the point of perfection!
While Dave and the boys were out and about performing all of the chores necessary to run their small farm, Nancy and the girls were inside preparing a delicious meal of new potatoes cooked in a big mess of green beans with a piece of salt pork in it. Juicy red tomatoes were sliced, plated, and put on the table. Cucumbers were sliced, filling the air with their refreshing scent. Green onions had been washed and placed next to the cucumbers. The iron skillet had been pulled from the oven and Nancy had turned cornbread onto a plate and sliced it into pieces. A dish that held Nancy’s homemade butter was placed next to the bread. A small bowl holding salt was placed on the table and Dave’s shaker of salt substitute was beside his plate.
Nancy went out to the porch and called, “Dinner’s ready; time to eat!”
Dave and the boys came inside, Dave washed his hands with Lava soap and the boys lined up behind him and did the same. The delicious smell of dinner was making them anxious to eat. They all crowded around the table to partake of Nancy’s fine but simple food. As they ate, Davilee began to tease Hortense about that young man that had visited their church. “I think you were making eyes at that cute John Allen, Sis.”
“Sam, you take that back, I was doing no such thing!”
“I reckon that I saw you, Sis. Didn’t you see her, Wallace?”
“Now, young’uns, don’t let your mouths stop your vittles. Pipe down and finish your dinner.” Dave admonished.
The kids finished their meal.
Over the summer, the lines of vegetables produced a bounty of fresh vegetables to eat and also to preserve for winter. The kids and Nancy spent hours harvesting the produce. Then Nancy spent even more time washing empty jars, readying them for being refilled. While she washed the jars, the kids went around the farm gathering branches and piling them beside the number three washtub that Nancy had placed outside over a fire pit.
After the jars were clean, Nancy and the girls filled the jars to near the top with green beans that had been strung, broken, and washed. Then Nancy carefully put a teaspoon of salt over the beans in each jar and fill them with boiling water that had been carried in from the well and boiled on top of the stove. Nancy ran a knife around the edge of each jar to release any air pockets and then wiped around the top with a rag before twisting on the lids. She lined up the jars in a number three washtub out in the yard, placing an old quilt carefully between the jars to keep them from bumping together and bursting. Then Nancy and the kids poured water into the tub until it was filled and the jars were covered.
Nancy used the wood gathered by the children to start a fire under the washtub. She carefully tended the fire, adding wood as needed, and noted when the water in the pan started boiling. She tended the fire for about four more hours. After that, the canned goods would be carefully placed in lines on the porch until they were cool. Then Nancy would gently tap around the rim to make sure the jar sealed.
Other produce from the garden was preserved, as well as fruit from the fruit trees that lined their orchard area, strawberries from lines of strawberry plants, and blackberries gathered from the wild blackberries growing on the hillsides. All of these foodstuffs were dried, pickled, stored in the root cellar, or made into preserves or butter, or were boiled in the washtub outside for a few hours and then lined up on the porch to cool.
After cooling, the jars were carried in by Nancy to her canning closet. There the lines of empty jars were replaced by lines of beautifully filled jars. Nancy’s canning closet seemed almost like a jewelry box filled with colorful gems; the green of beans, the red of tomatoes, the deep purple of blackberry preserves, the gold of peach butter… The shelves were lined once more with the harvests of the time of bounty, ready to sustain the family during the winter.
Those lines or rows in the garden that had seemed such long rows to hoe, had transformed Nancy’s canning closet from a closet filled with lines of empty jars into a jewelry box filled with lines of beautiful, life-giving gems. Those lines that had furrowed brows with worry during periods of uncooperative weather had been replaced by smile lines lifting up the corners of lips and crinkling the corners of eyes.
Dave, Nancy, and their seven children who lived to adulthood;
Dave, Nancy, Davilee, and Dale in front; Carmen, Hortense,
Wallace, Gayle and Donald Doris in back
Thank you for this beautiful description. I remember my grandparents doing this. My Mom canned a little, but mostly blanched her goods and froze them. I canned mostly green beans when I was younger, but haven't canned any in many years. The growing and canning skills are mostly unknown nowadays and I'm afraid our grandchildren will regret that sometime in the future.
ReplyDeleteYou are most welcome. I am glad that it brought back sweet memories for you. I am blessed to still have my parents. I help them can, dry, sulfur, and freeze produce. I try to record the process and the memories stirred up so that they can be preserved. If future generations ever wonder what life was like “back then”, hopefully, they can get a little dose through what I have recorded.
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