Funny! I wondered if you got a trip to the woodshed or a peach tree switch for your experiement! Yes, yes, yes! The "children's snuff" was great! But we used cinnamon instead of cocoa. My grandmother was from Cannon Co., Tenn., and she used snuff. But we thought that spit can was so gross, we didn't want to copy that, at all. However, Bertie, my mother's help, in Calvert, Texas, had a big knot in her lower lip, that she told us was snuff. She kept her spit can hidden, though, and I didn't ever notice her spitting. We begged and begged for some snuff like Bertie, so she mixed us up some cinnamon and sugar in a cup. We went around dipping and spitting happily. (We couldn't get candy or cookies due to sugar rationing, but "snuff" kept us satisfied for the whole day. I made some up for my grandson when I was making cinnamon toast for him. He liked the toast, but didn't want much of the snuff. I just saved it and made more cinnamon toast the next day. Another treat that we got was something that my mother called a "man". She would use left over pie crust, roll it out, put it in a pan, put on some butter, sprinkle with cinnamon and sugar, roll up the edges, and bake it. Wonderful ! Sometimes she would make them and put lemon juice on them, along with the sugar and butter. Maybe the cinnamon too, I can't remember. At times, instead of making them flat, she would roll them up, loosely. So good. I thought that, when I retired, I was going to just make all kinds of goodies for my grandsons (and myself!). I haven't had one thing turn out like my mother's! (When I told my mother, years ago, that my soup and goolaush weren't turning out like her's, she said she believed it was a difference in water.) She didn't leave recipes for those basic things, and I didn't write things down. Even the French Toast and scrambled eggs, that I used to make for my children in the 60s, won't turn out like it used to. I know I am doing the same things, using the same items and procedure, it just isn't working. I grew up, sitting in the kitchen, with my mother, grandmother, great aunts, and they told me how to do things. I went to them for help, as they were still alive, when I was a young mother, if I needed to check on something, But, now that they are all gone, I'm just not having much luck. Even simple pie crust won't work. I got up one morning at 4 a.m., wanting to make scones for my grandson. What a mess I had! At 9 a.m., long after the boys had gone to school, I was still fighting with the really runny, sticky dough I had made! Once made, they were okay-for after school snacks. I decided I would just buy them at the store. However, those are not very good. Dry, and always labeled incorrectly! I heat them and put whipped cream on top, and they are okay that way. My grandfather used to get up really early and fix a big breakfast for the family, then he would spend a lot of the morning baking. My dad sure was glad when my grandfather came to visit! He loved those fresh biscuits every morning! And I loved the pies and cookies. (This was the grandfather who was married to my grandmother from Tennessee. He was from Texas, but his parents were from Alabama. Grandpa walked with his knees bent. We had a Civil War sword that my mother kept hidden in the couch that had a space to store blankets. I found that sword and took it to school to show in history class. One of my classmates had argued that I didn't have a grandfather in the Civil War. I thought I did and took the sword to show them. My teacher just told me to take it home, that it was too valuable to bring to school. Soon, we made a trip to Ft. Worth and took the sword. My mother said it was not because I took it to school, but because my sister was at that age of getting into everything and they were afraid she would find it and hurt herself. My mother and her sister traded things back and forth, including their parents ad they got older. They would stay with one a while, then they would rotate. I knew that the sword belonged to my grandfather, so I had asked my mother why my grandfather walked with his knees bent. I asked if he was in the Civil War. She was busy and just said, "yes", probably so I would go away and quit bothering her. I asked if that is why Grandpa limped, and she said "yes", and went on with talking to someone else. So, I always thought that Grandpa got hit behind the knees with a sword during the Civil War. Of course, that was all wrong. It was his father's sword, but he polished it every time he visited us. There was also a wall pendulum clock that belonged to his parents, that he worked on every time he came to see us. As soon as he left, it would stop running! A younger cousin told me that she thought that he limped because of a boyhood accident with an axe. He didn't really talk about things. After my cousin's parents died, the children divided things up. One son took the sword. But he has distanced himself from the family, and someone told me that the sword is now in the posession of a sutler. I wrote to them and asked for a photo of it for our family things, but no answer. Maybe I can draw a picture of it. It was kind of plain. I can remember the blade part, but I can't remember, exactly, the handle. It might come to me, once I start drawing. Anyway, I remember my grandfather, limping around the kitchen singing "Billy Boy" (which I thought was very appropriate!), "Froggy Went A Courtin' ", etc. Anybody ever play the musical saw? My grandmother did, while my grandfather played the fiddle. My mother and her sister played the piano. I was only about 3, but I remember it distinctly, and just did a drawing about it. I'm trying to write memories, as well as drawings of things that I don't have photos of. My grandmother tried to show me how to play the jug or the spoons so I could join in their Saturday night sessions on the farm. I couldn't manage them, so I just "rode the horsie" on my grandfather's foot, while he played the fiddle. I didn't know the words to the songs, but I tried to sing with them. Now if it had been classical, songs from the movies or popular radio, or from the Methodist Hymnal, I could have sung those. My mother said that I knew every song in the Methodist Hymnal by the time I was 2! Of course, I was always with her at choir practice, church, piano lessons in our house, and every time there was some need for a piano or organ in town! I was researching musical saws for my drawing. I'm sure my grandmother went outside and brought in a saw and a hammer, after I asked her what she was going to play with the little group. My grandfather had brought out his fiddle, and my mother and her sister were playing duets on the piano. I didn't believe that playing the saw was possible. So, she showed me! And just grinned all the while! I hope y'all are putting all these stories down, and labeling all your pictures! I always have thought that my little stories were too new, and not anything unusual or interesting. My family is totally uninterested. So, I'm just writing, painting and drawing, anyway, for someday, when I am no longer here and they will want to know. I finally decided that, maybe, they are a little interesting to some people when I was at writers conferences and read some of my things. I thought I was writing something very serious, when people would just be fallling out of their chairs laughing, and told me to finish what I was writing. I was puzzled, but I guess it is funny, come to think about it. I mentioned the time when one great-uncle, as a little boy, didn't want to take violin lessons. His mother made him go. So, Eddie went to his lesson. When the teacher was out of the room, Eddie peed in the teachers violin case, then ran home. He didn't have to take anymore violin lessons. I had actually written about a room in my great-grandfather's house, and I remembered when he died, and a grandfather clock that was in the hall. That was strange, because I was upstairs, and not in that room at all when he died. I was only 1, and was in my baby bed, not sitting in a chair in the entry hall, looking at my socks, while the grownups went in to see great-grandfather. But people got a big kick out of my story! Another thing that interested people was how, when we went to the picture show, everyone had a certain place to sit, sort of like in a family room. I was struggling to write the assignment, which was supposed to be a murder mystery (not my area of interest at all), and I started writing about the old movie theatre, and how things were. Never did get to a mystery or a murder! Guess that is a sign that I'm getting old! I found myself starting to tell little stories to my students before I retired. I grew up in the next town, so they knew the families, people and places. They seemed to enjoy them, but I would stop myself when I realized I was telling old stories. (We could do those things in art, journalism, yearbook, and newspaper classes! Might not work so well in other subjects!) It really helped when the kids knew people that I knew, or their parents knew my family. Cecelia > My grandparents in 1955 had a sand yard,no grass,I have seen granny > sweep it many times. > The sand was great for a kid to play in and get in trouble with.As a > young child,I filled my daddy's gas tank with sand.Amazed me to see it > dissapear& I womonderd how long it would take to fill it up..I was maybe > 5or less but can remember this clearly.I remember the car would not > start & I was quit as a mouse.When daddy took the gas tank off,he > discovered my deed.HA > Since we are talking about older times.How many of you had their > grandmothers make them snuff to dip ? I wanted snuff like my granny so > she mixed up cocoa & Sugar,washed one of her snuff boxes,and I dipped > and spit big as granny.I was 5. > > >

Funny! I wondered if you got a trip to the woodshed or a peach tree switch for your experiement! Yes, yes, yes! The "children's snuff" was great! But we used cinnamon instead of cocoa. My grandmother was from Cannon Co., Tenn., and she used snuff. But we thought that spit can was so gross, we didn't want to copy that, at all. However, Bertie, my mother's help, in Calvert, Texas, had a big knot in her lower lip, that she told us was snuff. She kept her spit can hidden, though, and I didn't ever notice her spitting. We begged and begged for some snuff like Bertie, so she mixed us up some cinnamon and sugar in a cup. We went around dipping and spitting happily. (We couldn't get candy or cookies due to sugar rationing, but "snuff" kept us satisfied for the whole day. I made some up for my grandson when I was making cinnamon toast for him. He liked the toast, but didn't want much of the snuff. I just saved it and made more cinnamon toast the next day. Another treat that we got was something that my mother called a "man". She would use left over pie crust, roll it out, put it in a pan, put on some butter, sprinkle with cinnamon and sugar, roll up the edges, and bake it. Wonderful ! Sometimes she would make them and put lemon juice on them, along with the sugar and butter. Maybe the cinnamon too, I can't remember. At times, instead of making them flat, she would roll them up, loosely. So good. I thought that, when I retired, I was going to just make all kinds of goodies for my grandsons (and myself!). I haven't had one thing turn out like my mother's! (When I told my mother, years ago, that my soup and goolaush weren't turning out like her's, she said she believed it was a difference in water.) She didn't leave recipes for those basic things, and I didn't write things down. Even the French Toast and scrambled eggs, that I used to make for my children in the 60s, won't turn out like it used to. I know I am doing the same things, using the same items and procedure, it just isn't working. I grew up, sitting in the kitchen, with my mother, grandmother, great aunts, and they told me how to do things. I went to them for help, as they were still alive, when I was a young mother, if I needed to check on something, But, now that they are all gone, I'm just not having much luck. Even simple pie crust won't work. I got up one morning at 4 a.m., wanting to make scones for my grandson. What a mess I had! At 9 a.m., long after the boys had gone to school, I was still fighting with the really runny, sticky dough I had made! Once made, they were okay-for after school snacks. I decided I would just buy them at the store. However, those are not very good. Dry, and always labeled incorrectly! I heat them and put whipped cream on top, and they are okay that way. My grandfather used to get up really early and fix a big breakfast for the family, then he would spend a lot of the morning baking. My dad sure was glad when my grandfather came to visit! He loved those fresh biscuits every morning! And I loved the pies and cookies. (This was the grandfather who was married to my grandmother from Tennessee. He was from Texas, but his parents were from Alabama. Grandpa walked with his knees bent. We had a Civil War sword that my mother kept hidden in the couch that had a space to store blankets. I found that sword and took it to school to show in history class. One of my classmates had argued that I didn't have a grandfather in the Civil War. I thought I did and took the sword to show them. My teacher just told me to take it home, that it was too valuable to bring to school. Soon, we made a trip to Ft. Worth and took the sword. My mother said it was not because I took it to school, but because my sister was at that age of getting into everything and they were afraid she would find it and hurt herself. My mother and her sister traded things back and forth, including their parents ad they got older. They would stay with one a while, then they would rotate. I knew that the sword belonged to my grandfather, so I had asked my mother why my grandfather walked with his knees bent. I asked if he was in the Civil War. She was busy and just said, "yes", probably so I would go away and quit bothering her. I asked if that is why Grandpa limped, and she said "yes", and went on with talking to someone else. So, I always thought that Grandpa got hit behind the knees with a sword during the Civil War. Of course, that was all wrong. It was his father's sword, but he polished it every time he visited us. There was also a wall pendulum clock that belonged to his parents, that he worked on every time he came to see us. As soon as he left, it would stop running! A younger cousin told me that she thought that he limped because of a boyhood accident with an axe. He didn't really talk about things. After my cousin's parents died, the children divided things up. One son took the sword. But he has distanced himself from the family, and someone told me that the sword is now in the posession of a sutler. I wrote to them and asked for a photo of it for our family things, but no answer. Maybe I can draw a picture of it. It was kind of plain. I can remember the blade part, but I can't remember, exactly, the handle. It might come to me, once I start drawing. Anyway, I remember my grandfather, limping around the kitchen singing "Billy Boy" (which I thought was very appropriate!), "Froggy Went A Courtin' ", etc. Anybody ever play the musical saw? My grandmother did, while my grandfather played the fiddle. My mother and her sister played the piano. I was only about 3, but I remember it distinctly, and just did a drawing about it. I'm trying to write memories, as well as drawings of things that I don't have photos of. My grandmother tried to show me how to play the jug or the spoons so I could join in their Saturday night sessions on the farm. I couldn't manage them, so I just "rode the horsie" on my grandfather's foot, while he played the fiddle. I didn't know the words to the songs, but I tried to sing with them. Now if it had been classical, songs from the movies or popular radio, or from the Methodist Hymnal, I could have sung those. My mother said that I knew every song in the Methodist Hymnal by the time I was 2! Of course, I was always with her at choir practice, church, piano lessons in our house, and every time there was some need for a piano or organ in town! I was researching musical saws for my drawing. I'm sure my grandmother went outside and brought in a saw and a hammer, after I asked her what she was going to play with the little group. My grandfather had brought out his fiddle, and my mother and her sister were playing duets on the piano. I didn't believe that playing the saw was possible. So, she showed me! And just grinned all the while! I hope y'all are putting all these stories down, and labeling all your pictures! I always have thought that my little stories were too new, and not anything unusual or interesting. My family is totally uninterested. So, I'm just writing, painting and drawing, anyway, for someday, when I am no longer here and they will want to know. I finally decided that, maybe, they are a little interesting to some people when I was at writers conferences and read some of my things. I thought I was writing something very serious, when people would just be fallling out of their chairs laughing, and told me to finish what I was writing. I was puzzled, but I guess it is funny, come to think about it. I mentioned the time when one great-uncle, as a little boy, didn't want to take violin lessons. His mother made him go. So, Eddie went to his lesson. When the teacher was out of the room, Eddie peed in the teachers violin case, then ran home. He didn't have to take anymore violin lessons. I had actually written about a room in my great-grandfather's house, and I remembered when he died, and a grandfather clock that was in the hall. That was strange, because I was upstairs, and not in that room at all when he died. I was only 1, and was in my baby bed, not sitting in a chair in the entry hall, looking at my socks, while the grownups went in to see great-grandfather. But people got a big kick out of my story! Another thing that interested people was how, when we went to the picture show, everyone had a certain place to sit, sort of like in a family room. I was struggling to write the assignment, which was supposed to be a murder mystery (not my area of interest at all), and I started writing about the old movie theatre, and how things were. Never did get to a mystery or a murder! Guess that is a sign that I'm getting old! I found myself starting to tell little stories to my students before I retired. I grew up in the next town, so they knew the families, people and places. They seemed to enjoy them, but I would stop myself when I realized I was telling old stories. (We could do those things in art, journalism, yearbook, and newspaper classes! Might not work so well in other subjects!) It really helped when the kids knew people that I knew, or their parents knew my family. Cecelia > My grandparents in 1955 had a sand yard,no grass,I have seen granny > sweep it many times. > The sand was great for a kid to play in and get in trouble with.As a > young child,I filled my daddy's gas tank with sand.Amazed me to see it > dissapear& I womonderd how long it would take to fill it up..I was maybe > 5or less but can remember this clearly.I remember the car would not > start & I was quit as a mouse.When daddy took the gas tank off,he > discovered my deed.HA > Since we are talking about older times.How many of you had their > grandmothers make them snuff to dip ? I wanted snuff like my granny so > she mixed up cocoa & Sugar,washed one of her snuff boxes,and I dipped > and spit big as granny.I was 5. > > >

First, read this.... http://www.legislature.state.tn.us:80/bills/currentga/asp/WebBillInfo/Summary.aspx?BillNumber=HB1354 Then go back and read some of Danny Nichols and my thoughts, posted on this list, over the past 2 weeks. The proposed law provides, that if you can't prove relationship to the deceased in the cemetery, you can be denied access to the cemetery. Jess

I know there will be a lot of conversation about our talks on colas, etc. But, that is History. History that is being told, so the younger ones can understand. If our Ancestors had recorded written down everything, we could understand their lives better and their hardships. Our kids today do not understand how a RC and a Moonpie was a highlight of a whole weeks worth of waiting ! How not all of us just bought a ham from the store in a can when our parents had to kill and dress a hog to be able to have food. Yes, this is a delight to see everyone's thoughts on these subjects ! It brings back a earlier time when those who are gone now are remembered. Our parents and grandparents, their History, is as much a part of us, as was the History of our Ancestors a hundred years ago ! Thanks to all of you for your thoughts ! Kevin Morgan

Back when I was a child, hog killing was a neighborhood thing. All the neighbors would come over to help each other. There was lots of sharing, back then. Each family would have anywhere fron 1 to 5-6 very large hogs each season. Daddy would always go kill the hog with a special butcher knife, (My mother still has that butcher knife and I washed it the last time I was down there). Dad and the boys would load the hog on a slide pulled by one of the farm mules or horses,and bring it to the back yard where it was put in a vat of boiling water and taken out and the hair was easily removed after the scalding, they they would hang the hog from a tree or something else and they would cut it open from one end to the other and gut it and then it was washed out with boiling water. It was then placed on a large table and cut into various parts. the hams and other parts were salted down and placed in a large wooden box filled with salt for curing. Eventually the hams were hung up in the smoke house and smoked with hickory wood. There were no flies ever in our smoke house. Sausage were ground and seasoned, the lard was cooked out. We always had several hogs for killing each year, some weighing between 400-600 lbs each. We always had plenty to eat, even though there were 12 of us living in the house for several yers, Mother and Daddy, 7 of us children, Mother's parents and Daddy's Mother. I've been in on lye soap making and hominy cooking and syrup making too. My father was the third member of his immediate family to work the sawmill circuit. His father was a sawyer, then Dad's older brother went in to the business as a sawyer and when daddy was old enough he learned the trade from his father and brother. All three of them were highly sought after for their skill. The tradition stopped with my Father, as none of his children followed in his footsteps. My three oldest brothers went into the military and when they got out they went into the electronic business, one of them went into teaching electronics at a local Junior College. The youngest son went into the Air Force and made a career of it. I am the oldest daughter and my career startrd out and lasted for many years in the photography business, I then went to work for the police department as a comminications officer. The next daughter is a registered nurse and the baby of the family is my youngest sister who went into the teaching profession. Our Mother will be 96 years of age in August and is in good health, still lives alone, has a wonderful memory and everybody says she's the best cook ever. So it looks like craklin bread hasn't been bad for her ! Hope y'all didn't get bored with this. Mary ----- Original Message ----- From: "Kevin Morgan" <retread2006@sbcglobal.net> To: <tncannon@rootsweb.com> Sent: Sunday, May 13, 2007 7:31 AM Subject: [TNCANNON] Hog > Some of you are older than me, but I remember the one hog killing I went > to in the 60's was a group thing. They shot him, about 200 lbs, and then > rolled him in lye water to get his hair out. Everyone assisted and then > the meat was divided up afterwards. My uncle put his on a flatbed wagon > and put it in the garage until he hung it in the smokehouse. Had flies all > over it. I remember having some of later. My aunt would cut squrrs? out of > it, bugs I guess. The meat was dark, but tasty. > Was this the way the meat was done in the 1800's ? > Kevin > > ------------------------------- > To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to > TNCANNON-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the > quotes in the subject and the body of the message > >

Those of you who live in Middle Tennessee and read the Sunday "Tennessean" newspaper, be sure to read the letter to the editor, by Steve Cates. Steve is a retired professor at MTSU and was for years, a big promoter of Tennessee Cemetery discovery, recording and preservation. You see his name often, in older Rutherford Co. Cemetery Books, which included the parts of Cannon that were originally in Rutherford Co. He spent many years wandering the hills and hollows of western Cannon Co., recording old forgotten cemeteries. Basically his letter warns of the dangers of passing of the proposed cemetery law, with little or no forethought. Write your congressperson. Jess Lewis

They also usually done it in the winter, so flies were not a problem. The meat kept longer, also. Jess

Folks probably hung "fly paper" around, to keep the flies down. I don't recall the lye treatment, except to make soap afterwards. My grandpa just hung, the scalded, then scraped, to remove the hair (as I recall). Of course, I was only 5 or 6 years old. It was a big deal to me. Jess

my last hog killing was in the 80's when my husband's uncle killed that one.I remember him lighting a paper and singing the hair.My grandfather used to hang his in the smoke house but I never remember flies being in there.

All three of my granddaughters were Yahoo girls.The two older ones have graduated to coke & Dr.Pepper.The 4 year still likes that chocolate taste.

I remember very well my husbands Uncle killing a hog.Thank goodness it was dead when we drove up,and he was skinning it.I would have been upset to see him shot it.I remember my grandmother rendering out lard in a big black pot.Remember her chasing a chicken around the yard.wringing it's neck,and having it for lunch.At 8-10 years old for some reason I found it entertaining to watch it flop around headless.Not now,I would be crying.

There's nothing better than a big bowl of turnip greens and a big slice of craklin bread. The homemade kind is the best. Yes, I've even help make the crackins for the bread. They're made at hog killing time, when the lard is cooked out of the pork fat, this is usually done outside in the old black wash pot. When the fat is all cooked out, the cracklins are removed and put into clean flour sacks and ususall hung in the smokehouse to age. That's good eating folks !!! Can't say how good it is for you though. Has anyone ever been to the RC Cola and Moon Pie festival held every year in Bell Buckle. I went there a couple of years ago and had a very good time. Thousands of people attend each year. Mary ----- Original Message ----- From: "m m" <alabamanonna@webtv.net> To: <tncannon@rootsweb.com> Sent: Saturday, May 12, 2007 8:54 PM Subject: Re: [TNCANNON] Gaither [White Castle vs. Krystal] >I remember Double Cola.My mother in law made Craklin Cornbread untioll > she died 3 years ago.I always loved it but my husband hated it > > > > > ------------------------------- > To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to > TNCANNON-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the > quotes in the subject and the body of the message > >

Some of you are older than me, but I remember the one hog killing I went to in the 60's was a group thing. They shot him, about 200 lbs, and then rolled him in lye water to get his hair out. Everyone assisted and then the meat was divided up afterwards. My uncle put his on a flatbed wagon and put it in the garage until he hung it in the smokehouse. Had flies all over it. I remember having some of later. My aunt would cut squrrs? out of it, bugs I guess. The meat was dark, but tasty. Was this the way the meat was done in the 1800's ? Kevin

Jess, What is the History of the Fort in Manchester ? Kevin

Sure, I remember Double Cola. Bottled in Tullahoma, TN. (Coffee Co) My dad was a "RC" guy, so that's what we got. Besides, RC was still 5¢ after "Coke" went up to 6¢ and finally to 10¢. I also loved the chocolate drinks, Chocolate Soldier, Yoo-Hoo, and I think there was another version named "Goody" Jess

I remember Double Cola.My mother in law made Craklin Cornbread untioll she died 3 years ago.I always loved it but my husband hated it

We lived in Tell City.So they are still around Huh ?

Al.still has RC & moonpies.I don't drink many Diet Drinks.One a week or so.I tried the grape but like the orange better.I drink watermost of the time.Ever now & then I add Crystal Light. Umm we love Chicken Liver in the South. My husband & Brother's favorite place to go--- Tractor Supply.Don't know why.

We had a Frosty Mug in Indiana as a child.It might have been A & W but they called it Frosty Mug.I never liked rootbeer but that was a regular stop for my parents on pay day.Pretty sure there is a few of the old mugs at my parents.

When I lived for a short time in Nashville TN during the 60's, we had Brownie. It was a Chocolate Milk like drink and had a Elf on the front of the bottle. Correct me if I am wrong on this. I am sure Jess drank some of these. Does anyone remember Double Cola ? Does anyone still make Cracklin Cornbread ? Kevin