Fatigue...

Saturday night was the night of the Harvest Moon....it was cloudy here, but clear down in Georgia! My daughter took this picture. Isn't it beautiful?? 

Saturday, I started a new medication for my spasticity, well, by bedtime I was so tired...I couldn't even wash my face before I hit the sack. I slept like a log...and didn't even hear Tom get up in the night. Sunday morning when the alarm went off, I could hardly get out of bed. However, I wanted to go to church, so we got ready and went! (I was afraid I'd fall asleep during the sermon!...smile... but it was such a good sermon, I stayed wide awake!) Then after church we went over for fellowship...and that woke me up a little more..smile... 

Then we went up for a church luncheon...I spotted this old wooden picket fence...remember the days??

Here is the dinner we bought. Amazing...and such good food! They also had baklava for dessert (actually, Tom just ate the last piece...smile.. I find it too sweet for me..if you can imagine anything being too sweet for me...ha...)

Last but not least look at this beautiful heart leaves on this plant! Brenda shot this photo...aren't they pretty??  Hope you're in for a wonderful week!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Here is that story of the "kitchen stove" I told you about and will go in the Bugle Newsletter! This sure brought back lots of memories...I remember my mom (Grace) cooking at our kitchen stove! The one thing that sticks in my memory...was when she would make donuts. She would put the pan down in the fire, to get the oil hot and make lots of yummy donuts! All the kids that would come to visit remember her donuts too! Do you have any memories about these old cook stoves???

KITCHEN STOVE

The kitchen stove was the indispensable giant in every household.

It wasn’t just a stove, our life centered around it. It cooked our meals, did our baking, canned our food, heated out water for doing dishes, washing clothes and taking baths, kept us warm in the winter (most of the time) and HOT in the summer.

It was wood burning and Dad went to the timber for logs. He used either the big power saw, which was hooked up with a wide belt connected to the tractor, or a long cross-cut saw, for two people. Dad was always on one end, and many times, I was on the other. Dad said I always grunted when I pulled the saw to my side. It was the children’s responsibility before going to bed to see that the wood was carried into the kitchen. We also had to pick up corn cobs from the pig pen. Mother would use these to start the fire. She would take three or four cobs, dip them into a can of kerosene, lay them in the firebox, add two or three sticks of wood, and using “farmer matches”, soon had a hot fire going. Every household kitchen stove had a box of “farmer matches” by it.

First the coffee was put on to perk- and as soon as it started to perk, it was pushed to the back part of the stove, where it continued to perk forever. No wonder cream or sugar, or both, had to be added. We children weren’t allowed to drink it. We were told it would stunt our growth. But, oh, how good it smelled “perking away.”

Breakfast varied. In the winter it was nearly always oatmeal. (When we stayed with Grandma Brian, she had cream of wheat with raisins in it). In summer, breakfasts were much larger. There was filed work to be done and hired men to be fed.

Hot biscuits were always served with gravy or sausage gravy. Ham, bacon, eggs, served in a variety of ways, pancakes, fried potatoes, all found their way to the table. What would we have done without the big cast iron skillet? Of course, there was either Grandma Brian’s peach butter or Mother’s plum conserve and apple butter. Mother would take brown sugar, and some water, add a little maple flavoring-and “presto” hot syrup.

The Stove continued to be of service. As time after time water was pumped by hand from the well and carried, bucketful by bucketful, into the house. Think of all the buckets of water Mother carried before we girls were big enough to help. On wash day, the copper boiler was brought in, filled with water and heated, some lye thrown in to “break” or soften the water. After heating, it had to be carried to the back porch to the washing machine. Our first washing machine was Maytag with a gas motor attached. All clothes were washed in the same water. White clothes first, underwear next, followed by dresses, shirts, etc. and overalls last. Then, put through the wringer to the rinse water. From there they went to the clothesline to be dried. They were ironed with flat irons heated on the stove. In winter, we would heat the flat iron, wrap a cloth around them, and take them to bed with us to keep our feet warm. Bedrooms were not heated; we loved to sleep in our grandparents’ beds, as they had feather beds.

Saturday night, water was heated for baths. When hot enough, the “rinse” tub was brought in and set on the kitchen floor. This is for when we were little. When we were older, we took a wash pan of warm water to our bed rooms and washed up there.

No electricity, no running water, no bathtub!

Where did our water come from? Water was pumped by hand from a deep well outside the North door. We had some of the coldest and best tasting water in the area. There was also a windmill which pumped the water for the stock tank. One frosty morning, Nadine was sent to bring in a pail of water. The handle was covered with frost, cousin Dale, who was staying with us at the time, told her to lick it off and sweet, trusting Nadine did as she was told and found her tongue stuck to the handle. When she pulled it loose, she left some of her tongue there. OW!

            Dishwashing also took a lot of water. The water was heated in a large tea kettle-a “must” on every stove. Water was poured into a large dish pan for washing. We dried them by hand. A popular saying was, “It’s a poor dish dryer that can’t get off what the washer left on.”

After the dishes were washed, the water was thrown out the back door. Sometimes, it was so cold in the winter that the dish towel froze in our hands.

Women still enjoy having embroidered dishtowels.