When being thrifty was the norm

I’m going to digress a bit from genealogy for a moment. When I was growing up, my mother saved bacon grease in a holder that sat on the back of the stove and yes, she used that grease to cook fried potatoes, hominy or other wonderful foods. A spoon full was always added to the pancake batter to make them richly brown. Our colas, at the rare times we got to have one, came in bottles which were carefully saved and returned to the store for either a refund on the deposit or new bottles in the racks. Cereal came in two sizes, the family sized box, which was filled to the top or later, the small assorted boxes for the families who actually got to choose a favorite type. There was no huge air space between the bag of cereal and the top of the box and there may have been 10 different flavors to choose from. The true picture is that we didn’t eat cereal for breakfast much because mom believed in a good hearty breakfast and cold cereal wasn’t quite up to snuff.

Now to meat. We raised our own chickens and eggs. Butchering chickens was a family affair though I’m not going to say I have fond memories of it or of gathering eggs when the nests were above my eyesight and the snakes loved to snack on chicken eggs in the nest. Families split whole hogs and sides of beef, but once in a while we had to go to the grocery store for meat. It was not in little packages on foam trays, wrapped in plastic, looking all pretty in pinkish red but rather displayed in a huge metal bin behind a glass counter, and transferred it to a piece of butcher paper, wrapped and taped shut. Quite often the meat appeared brown, that’s what happens when air hits meat.

When we were treated to a meal at a café, drinks were served with paper straws, milk came to the table in a glass, foamy on the top from the machine it was dispensed with. School lunches were packed by our mothers in a lunch box if we were lucky but quite often sent to school in a paper sack, the sandwiches wrapped in wax paper, the wrapping of which so that it would stay covered proved our mothers to be design engineers. If we didn’t have a thermos, we drank water out of the water fountain which every other child, teacher and administrator also drank from. That thought reminds me that we used to be able to drink out of water fountains in downtown McCook.

I learned to darn socks with the heel stretched over a light bulb so that the mend would be round in shape. Rag rugs made by my grandmother covered the floors, crocheted doilies protected the wood furniture and hand embroidered dish towels were used in the kitchen. I can’t even remember when paper towels made their appearance in the kitchen. Handy wipes consisted of my mother spitting on her handkerchief and wiping my face; my view of handy wipes was wiping my hands across my backside after washing them. Handy at least.

Everything was used up until it had no more use. A good dress became a school dress became a hand me down dress became a dust rag. The garbage disposal was mostly us, after which either the dog, cat, or chickens got the leftovers. I felt sorry for my cousins in California that had to drink water out of this big glass bottle delivered to their home while we drank right out of the faucet or the garden hose.

The point I’m trying to make is don’t shake fingers at my generation and say we are handing our children and grandchildren an ecological mess…..I guarantee you the air is cleaner, the lakes and streams are safer, the smokestacks of the factories (if they’re still running) send scrubbed steam into the air instead of high pollutants. Everything is more efficient, but that efficiency can’t keep up with the attitude that every dime needs to be spent on cheap, throw away goods, throw away bottles, throw away toys. Each generation has their goals to achieve, but it takes all generations to achieve them.