Your Parents.....and....

[Beekissed]

I am the youngest of nine children, my parents came from large families as well. Both parents came from physically abusive alcoholics on the father side and long-suffering, hard-working women on the mother side. My parents did not drink, smoke or swear and when I was about 4 they started going to church. We've always lived in rural areas, towns or country, and my paternal grandmother and stepgrandfather had a farm. Grandma's was my first taste of homegrown foods and left a deep impression on me about how cool it was to have all your foods at your fingertips instead of on a store shelf.

My maternal grandmother was shot three times in the head by her second husband~who then killed himself~ and was paralyzed on one side and nursing home bound while still in her early fifties.

When I was 10 we moved way back in a holler and started to homestead on 110 acres, built a two room log cabin in about 3 wks. time and lived there for the next many years without running water or electricity. It was about a mile to the bus stop...and yes, it WAS uphill both ways, as anyone who has ever lived in WV will know, this is a distinct possibility!

During our time on the homestead we built another, larger cabin, two different cellars and went from hauling water in milk jugs from a spring to pumping it from a hand dug well. We had a milk cow and calf, a couple of groups of pigs, chickens, turkeys, ducks and even a horse at one time. We grew big gardens and our meat was harvested from the land~we processed several deer each season and spring turkeys were taken each year. My dad, brothers and eventually my sons are all avid and skilled bowhunters, so we never lacked for deer meat.

We worked hard, lived on little-all my clothes would fit into a cardboard box under my bed, and it was healthy living. Some of my sibs didn't like it, but it was fine for me. My bed was built from logs and was a full-sized bunkbed that I shared with my sister on the bottom bunk and my brother slept on the top bunk. All of us slept in one room and the second room housed the wood cookstove and our small kitchen. By that time there was just four kids living at home but usually another older sib would be living there as well when they got out of the military, marriages, jobs or homes and had to live back with the parents.

The folks didn't get electricity back that holler until I was about 22 years old and they never had running water put in. My mother did a lion's share of work and spent her days isolated from anyone or anything except dad and us kids, but she was cheerful and diligent in all weathers. Dad was a bit of a slave driver but it didn't hurt us one bit and I could do with some of that hard physical labor right now, judging from my body.

My mother learned many of her country skills from granny, who had them all in spades, and developed many skills on her own through trial and error. As the youngest, I was exposed to most of these skills for a longer time, and then, when my folks watched my kids for me later, my kids benefitted from the knowledge as well. My boys learned to hunt, gut, skin and process their game from about 7-8 years on and are proficient at it today. I added a few things to their knowledge base as well, such as making their own bread, cooking their own meals from scratch, basic animal husbandry and frugal, make-do livin'.

My mom still lives on some 15 acres attached to the old homestead~ long ago sold to others~ and she still has a cabin that Dad built onto the front of a trailor. She enjoys having a washing machine and dryer, as well as refridgerators, but she still has an outhouse, gardens extensively and still cans her produce. She is getting a hand pump placed on top of her well, as she has found that it sure comes in handy to have a water source that doesn't depend on electricity. She heats with wood still and still works harder than most~can work circles around all of us kids~has her own chainsaw now and is skilled in the running of it and all her power tools. She will be 77 this month. Dad has Alzhiemer's and is in a nursing facility but at 80 years old is still looking and moving like a young man~ his mind wore out before his body, sad to say. He still talks about his cabin but thinks he hasn't finished it yet...

 

[Beanie]

I still believe the Mothership will return and my real parents will come out to greet me.

I think I ended up being everything my folks aren't. Mom hated all the gardening, smoking meats, canning and food prepping that her mom and dad did. Dad was a city boy and they never had a garden or any of that.
My folks still to this day won't grow food, they eat the same things over and over, hate trying anything new and different. To this day I won't cook tuna noodle casserole because we had every Wed. of the world!!!

After I got married I found out what being self sufficient was from my MIL. She could sew, cook, quilt, crochet, put up produce each year and gardened. Even just trying a new recipe was exciting at their house! I mean....until I got married I had never had Chinese food because my parents didn't like the way it looked.

So I guess my MIL, and an aunt of mine, were my inspirations for wanting to learn how to do for myself. Sure I could go buy a can of tomatoes like my mom....or get free volunteer plants, grow them, harvest them and can them myself knowing that my canned 'mators are healthier and better tasting.

I love doing for my family. I love learning new things and almost all of it I owe to my mother-in-law.

 

[colowyo0809]

Sit down a spell all you youngun's and let good ole Uncle Matthew tell you a story. This is a story that started a good 31 years ago.

"Way way back in the day, back before time began, Uncle Matthews mother loved the men. Loved them alot . So, before it became fashionable for highschool girls to be highschool mothers, Mother Becker was a single pregnant soon to be mother. 3 years after Matthew was born Mother Becker married a man who had three daughters from a previous marriage (his previous wife having died giving birth to the third daughter). Shortly after the wedding Mother Becker's husband legally adopted Uncle Matthew. 6 years later Mother Becker decided that she could no longer stay with a man who physically abused her and mentally/emotionally abused her and her son. So, Mother Becker (against all those silly church notions that you stay with your abusive husband no matter what) divorced her husband. When Uncle Matthew was 13ish Mother Becker met a new man, who had two daughters and a son from a previous broken marriage. Mother Becker spent 12 years married to this mentally/emotionally abusive man before he left her for a younger woman . Meanwhile, Uncle Matthew's legal father married a woman with a daughter from a previous marriage and they also made a daughter together (still not sure how this was possible, as they were both the size of small elephants , the theory is that a vacuum was involved ) so this gave Uncle Matthew plenty of sisters. So, at this time Mother Becker is single, as her third husband, whom she was with for a very short period of time and loved dearly, passed away this past January. Uncle Matthew doesn't care about either of her first two husbands and has no clue where they are at. This is why Uncle Matthew has so many "sisters" and so many "nieces and nephews". Uncle Matthew keeps choosing his family, regardless of whom he is or isn't blood related to (fyi: Uncle Matthew has no blood siblings )

Uncle Matthew's Mother Becker and Grandmother Becker did alot of at home canning, but did not teach Uncle Matthew any of this. Instead, the people on the great website Sufficient Self helped Uncle Matthew gather the courage to try new things, build chicken coops, make plans to raise pigs, can pickles and beets, freeze soups, make jams, and become a better SS person.

 

[Britesea]

I am the oldest, by two years, of two children.

My father grew up in a tiny house near Fort Worth TX, with an abusive family (once he was raped by his older brothers, then beaten by his mother for 'soiling' his pants). He ran away from home at 15 and managed to put himself through college, garnering a Fullbright scholarship to Paris in the process. He started out working toward a degree in Music, then switched to French Lit. Later, he went back to school and got a degree in Engineering, and eventually ended up as one of the developers in AI. Along the way, he became proficient in reading Egyptian hieroglyphics, and built his own telescope. He never understood children, but once I could talk to him about adult subjects, we finally developed a relationship. I adored him. He passed away 4 years ago and I still miss him.

My mother grew up on a farm in France, near the Alps. Although she never talked very much about it, there were many signs that she was abused by both parents, and molested by her father (who also tried to molest me). WWII was rough on the family. They had German soldiers billeted with them for much of the war, and my mother's health was compromised by the poor nutrition. She met my father while they were both attending university in Paris, and, believing the stories of 'rich Americans' worked hard to get him to propose. She never forgave him for NOT being rich; and his parents never forgave her for being a foreigner. They divorced after both of us kids left home. Dad remarried, but mom never did. She eventually developed Alzheimers, and I was the only person in the world that would have anything to do with her, so I cared for her until things got too bad (I couldn't keep her home- she would get out and wander in the night). I finally put her in a home, and a year later (last November) she died.

Growing up in So. California, we lived in middle class suburban neighborhoods. We had lots of pets, but no animals for practical purposes. We had a garden one year, but ended up moving just as the plants started being ready for harvest. I didn't make friends well, because I had a french accent even though we no longer spoke french in the house (My mother decided to learn English just about the time I started kindergarten) and that made me uncomfortably different. So I read books voraciously.

When I was 13, my mother had a serious car accident and head injury. While she was recovering, I took over the care of the household- cooking, cleaning, laundry, and taking care of her. She apparently liked this so much, she never again had anything to do with the household, except for shopping (it was fun to spend money!) She gradually became more and more abusive to both my brother and me. I contemplated running away from home with a boyfriend-- a friend's father owned an island off the coast of WA, and we were going to live there in a commune. I didn't run away, but that was the beginning of my interest in SS, as I read up on the skills that would be needed. When I got married, my husband didn't want a farm, although he liked the idea of being a country squire, so we could have a horse, but no chickens; but I did grow a garden and tried putting things up.

When that marriage fell apart, I met current DH, who grew up in a family that had been working a small family farm for about 10 years, with goats, pigs, chickens, sheep, a steer, and a huge garden and fruit trees. So at last I had a partner that loved country life like I did, but we were too poor to afford any land, and they won't let you have chickens in trailer parks, for some reason. We tried to buy the family farm while living there with his parents, but that didn't work very well. So finally, we are on a 1/2 acre in Oregon, and in a position to finally have the lifestyle we both wanted all our lives. It's small, but it's all ours

 

[SSDreamin]

Sit down a spell all you youngun's and let good ole Uncle Matthew tell you a story. This is a story that started a good 31 years ago.

"Way way back in the day, back before time began, Uncle Matthews mother loved the men. Loved them alot . So, before it became fashionable for highschool girls to be highschool mothers, Mother Becker was a single pregnant soon to be mother. 3 years after Matthew was born Mother Becker married a man who had three daughters from a previous marriage (his previous wife having died giving birth to the third daughter). Shortly after the wedding Mother Becker's husband legally adopted Uncle Matthew. 6 years later Mother Becker decided that she could no longer stay with a man who physically abused her and mentally/emotionally abused her and her son. So, Mother Becker (against all those silly church notions that you stay with your abusive husband no matter what) divorced her husband. When Uncle Matthew was 13ish Mother Becker met a new man, who had two daughters and a son from a previous broken marriage. Mother Becker spent 12 years married to this mentally/emotionally abusive man before he left her for a younger woman . Meanwhile, Uncle Matthew's legal father married a woman with a daughter from a previous marriage and they also made a daughter together (still not sure how this was possible, as they were both the size of small elephants , the theory is that a vacuum was involved ) so this gave Uncle Matthew plenty of sisters. So, at this time Mother Becker is single, as her third husband, whom she was with for a very short period of time and loved dearly, passed away this past January. Uncle Matthew doesn't care about either of her first two husbands and has no clue where they are at. This is why Uncle Matthew has so many "sisters" and so many "nieces and nephews". Uncle Matthew keeps choosing his family, regardless of whom he is or isn't blood related to (fyi: Uncle Matthew has no blood siblings )

Uncle Matthew's Mother Becker and Grandmother Becker did alot of at home canning, but did not teach Uncle Matthew any of this. Instead, the people on the great website Sufficient Self helped Uncle Matthew gather the courage to try new things, build chicken coops, make plans to raise pigs, can pickles and beets, freeze soups, make jams, and become a better SS person.

I know that yours is a sad story, but I have to say your writing style drew me in. Do you write for a living/for fun? You're quite good IMHO

 

[colowyo0809]

Sit down a spell all you youngun's and let good ole Uncle Matthew tell you a story. This is a story that started a good 31 years ago.

"Way way back in the day, back before time began, Uncle Matthews mother loved the men. Loved them alot . So, before it became fashionable for highschool girls to be highschool mothers, Mother Becker was a single pregnant soon to be mother. 3 years after Matthew was born Mother Becker married a man who had three daughters from a previous marriage (his previous wife having died giving birth to the third daughter). Shortly after the wedding Mother Becker's husband legally adopted Uncle Matthew. 6 years later Mother Becker decided that she could no longer stay with a man who physically abused her and mentally/emotionally abused her and her son. So, Mother Becker (against all those silly church notions that you stay with your abusive husband no matter what) divorced her husband. When Uncle Matthew was 13ish Mother Becker met a new man, who had two daughters and a son from a previous broken marriage. Mother Becker spent 12 years married to this mentally/emotionally abusive man before he left her for a younger woman . Meanwhile, Uncle Matthew's legal father married a woman with a daughter from a previous marriage and they also made a daughter together (still not sure how this was possible, as they were both the size of small elephants , the theory is that a vacuum was involved ) so this gave Uncle Matthew plenty of sisters. So, at this time Mother Becker is single, as her third husband, whom she was with for a very short period of time and loved dearly, passed away this past January. Uncle Matthew doesn't care about either of her first two husbands and has no clue where they are at. This is why Uncle Matthew has so many "sisters" and so many "nieces and nephews". Uncle Matthew keeps choosing his family, regardless of whom he is or isn't blood related to (fyi: Uncle Matthew has no blood siblings )

Uncle Matthew's Mother Becker and Grandmother Becker did alot of at home canning, but did not teach Uncle Matthew any of this. Instead, the people on the great website Sufficient Self helped Uncle Matthew gather the courage to try new things, build chicken coops, make plans to raise pigs, can pickles and beets, freeze soups, make jams, and become a better SS person.

I know that yours is a sad story, but I have to say your writing style drew me in. Do you write for a living/for fun? You're quite good IMHO

Lol, it actually isn't a sad story, just a barebones account of how my family was formed As far as the writing goes, its how I talk occasionally I thank thee for the compliment, but I haven't written for fun in quite a while I can't get my mind to focus long enough to

 

[THEFAN]

I have to think about this one. I started a post but HMMM.. Lot of bad memories. Let's just say A poor Irish amd German family that should not have met each other.

 

[valmom]

Wow- this could get long!
My father is a twin and they are the oldest of 12 children and grew up in Erie PA. My youngest uncle is only 6 years older than I am. We only went once a year to visit upstate (I grew up right outside Philly) because my mother was horrified at the conditions. The bathroom was sort of out-house then finally an added on outhouse so you didn't have to hike outside. The entire clan had a 1 bedroom house and the attic was basically bunks for all my uncles from the time I remember it. My grandfather was a MARS operator and had a whole room of the house for his ham radio stuff. It was cool listening to him and his stories. My grandmother had a Readers Digest collection that went back to the 1920's- I spent a large portion of our vacation there reading all of them! They had a pond in the back that we would spend time fishing with my uncles to stock- mostly with catfish and sunfish. We built a raft with old oil drums to make it float. My uncles had a trapeze that was the coolest thing EVER! It was really high up on a tree limb- so high that one of them had to come out and start it for us when we wanted to swing on it. We climbed up on 2 oil barrels stacked on top of each other to wait for an uncle to throw the trapeze to us, then jump and catch it! The next person had to be ready when we wanted to jump off or an uncle would have to come out again and re-start it since we couldn't reach it. We would go camping in the neighbors cow pasture and periodically the cows would come through in the middle of the night and lean on the tent- with us in it! One year they had a holstein steer that we tried to ride. My grandmother grew tons of stuff- and the most lovely amazing roses ever. She would top dress them with all the coffee grounds out of the percolator. She made her own bread and certainly home made dinners. She was an amazing little tough woman. My grandfather smoked like a chimney and rolled his own. He died of emphysema and was smoking with an oxygen tank till the end. My grandmother died one month after he did. Not of anything, but loss of him, I think.

My mother was a city girl and my grandmother was a shop steward for ILGWU and an amazing seamstress. She worked hard her whole life. My mother's father abandoned them during the depression, and my mother's step father was a bad alcoholic who, thankfully died many years ago and has left my grandmother with enough time to have a happy life without him. My grandmother is now 93 and has macular degeneration, but still lives in her own house. She has switched from having a dog to having a cat because she can no longer see well enough to pick the poop up from the yard, but she can see to clean a cat pan. She is also a tough lady,but having worked her whole life to be the breadwinner from the Depression on, she never had leisure to do much as a hobby, or a creative outlet. She did have a veggie garden every year, but has given that up now and even has someone come in to mow her lawn! I taught her how to crochet when I was in 4th grade and she took off making afghans for everyone- up to room sized ones! She was making up for lost time. She and my mother don't really get along too well, and my aunt (from the second marriage) takes care of her.

I have one brother younger by a year and 4 months. My parents met because my father was in the Navy and was in port in Baltimore and my mother went to the dances. We were born in Navy hospitals, and when my father got out of the navy, he went back to college on the GI bill and went into chemical engineering. We lived in a suburb about 100 yards outside Philly with just enough room for a peach tree, blueberry bushes, a strawberry patch, and a veggie garden. My brother and I had to mow the back so we were glad to see so much in garden instead of grass! My mother always loved horses, and took us one day for a pony ride at a local farm. By the time we left we owned a pony. He came with a bit, a headstall and reins. We fell off a lot! He knew how to stand next to a tree and rub his bridle off since we didn't actually have any control over him at all. He also got us off every time he went down a hill simply by putting his head down. It's amazing we survived. We did eventually get a saddle but by then we were sticking on better and I always liked bareback better. So started my horse obsession!

Gosh this got long!

 

[Neko-chan]

...

 

[OrganicKale]

Hmm- parents- poor. Too many kids. Inner city. Horrible, horrible, miserable people. Resented me for wanting better, but I didn't care. I was the first of 10 to graduate from high school, although I was far from the oldest; and the only one to go to college. I made a vow that I would NEVER raise a child in poverty, and I would never just crank out kids like a rabbit.

I kept my vow. I have a successful career, and only one child.