Delicious Meal on the Family Farm

Nebraskan recalls visiting her aunt and uncle's family farm, and sharing a delicious meal

| Good Old Days

I was born in 1936 in a small Nebraska town of 2000 people.

My mother, father and I would visit Aunt Hazel and Uncle Clay's family farm, which was four miles from town. We did not always own a car, so we could take the early morning bus that made regular daily runs to Columbus 40 miles away. The driver would let us out at Uncle Clay's lane and we would then walk the half-mile to their house.

Perhaps we would help them can corn, butcher a hog or just spend a day of visiting. We would have a huge delicious meal at noon – usually fried chicken or canned pork, mashed potatoes and gravy and chocolate pie. In the afternoon Aunt Hazel would say,

"Play us a tune on the piano, Shirley, while we cool off a bit." Early in the evening, we would walk back up the half-mile lane to the highway, and the bus would pick us up on its return trip.

On one of our summer visiting days, a black cloud came up. Uncle Clay came running to the house and said we should all go to the cave. It was a deep cave. Aunt Hazel, a Baptist teetotaler, said the former owner was a drunkard who had started digging the cave by hand when he was "under the influence." The cave was 27 steps down-a tremendous job to have been done by hand. It was so cool that Aunt Hazel kept her butter, eggs and milk down there.

She and Uncle Clay were both tall, slender people, and I think they kept trim by "jazzercizing" up and down those cave steps several times a day.

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