[ten-der-foot] Show IPA
noun, plural ten·der·foots, ten·der·feet [-feet] Show IPA.
1. a raw, inexperienced person; novice.
2. a newcomer to the ranching and mining regions of the western U.S., unused to hardships.
3. one in the lowest rank of the Boy Scouts of America or Girl Scouts of America.
Yup, that about sums it up. I am definitely a novice when it comes to homesteading. Sorta.
I grew up in southwest Missouri. My grandparents owned an 80-acre farm for several years. Here a cow, there a pig, ei -ei-ohh! They really did have cattle, chickens, & an occasional pig.
My granddaddy milked a few cows by hand & sold some of it to a dairy. The rest was made into homemade butter and filtered for drinking. Dinner came from the backyard. The chickens were decapitated, plucked, and cooked. (Ever hear the old saying "running around like a chicken with it's head cut off"? I can speak from personal experience. NOT a pretty sight)! Pig fat was rendered into lard in the front yard and cracklin' bread was made from the leftovers in the bottom of the pot. Yum! Vegetables were picked fresh and seasonally and what wasn't eaten fresh was canned and preserved for the winter.
I got to go to old fashioned quilting bees, where I played Barbies under the quilt rack while listening to the country ladies share the local gossip. A couple of those quilts still warm my bed in the cold winter today. I occasionally attended a small country church where they had a lady preacher(!), who's rousing sermons left ya in no doubt of the wages of sin. I got to visit my grandparent's best friends, who lived 'over yonder'. I didn't find out until I was an adult that Mr. Tom was a WWI veteran. Amazing!
I picked wild blackberries and strawberries, made Queen Ann's Lace bouquets, used a real outhouse until they added indoor plumbing to the old farmhouse, played in the barn with the kittens, attempted to help bail hay (I was only 5 or 6), waded in the creek & avoided crawdads, drew water from a real well, went morel mushroom hunting, and rode my horse, Prince, to visit the neighbor farm kids.
Unfortunately, as happens, they sold the farm and moved to a house with five acres. Even then, we pastured my sweet Prince (who lived into his 30s), Grandaddy still raised American Fox Hounds and went 'fox hunting', and there was always the garden bursting with fresh veggies. I spent many happy years helping shell beans, picking pears off the trees in the front yard, and learning how to cook at my Mom-mommy's and Mom's aproned skirts.
Yeah, I may technically be a tenderfoot but my roots are deeply planted in the soil of my youth. Self-reliance, making-do, sharing ones blessings and seeing the joy in the everyday routines were my lessons. Perfect roots to plant and grow on my own small piece of earth.
No comments:
Post a Comment