Throwback Thursday: A River and Falls

Here's my caption:

Foundation for river-front property. (When house is completed, will sell cheap!!!)

What's yours?

Leave your caption in the comments below.

Memory Monday: Cures for Hiccups

My paternal grandmother

CURES FOR HICCUPS

I hate to get the hiccups because they usually go on until they hurt. The only way to get rid of them—at least, the only one that works for me—is to get a full glass of water and take ten swallows without taking a breath. Sometimes, I have to do this a couple of times, but it usually works with only one try.

Recently, I came across the following while doing some research. It is from a book titled AUDELS HOUSEHOLD HELPS, HINTS, AND RECEIPTS, and was published in 1913—three years after my grandparents were married and four years before my father was born. Note: they didn’t call them hiccups back then. They were called hiccoughs.

To Stop Ordinary Hiccough.—There are two simple methods of arresting this unpleasant affection—by a temporary check in either the respiration or the circulation. The first mode of doing so is by drawing in the breath just before the expected time, and holding it thus till the period is past. If it does not succeed with the first effort it will very likely do so with the second. The other plan is to squeeze the right wrist with the finger and thumb of the other hand, at the place where the pulse is generally felt.

A Brazilian physician, Dr. Ramos, states that refrigeration of the lobe of the ear will stop hiccough, whatever its cause may be. Very slight refrigeration, he asserts, will answer, the application of cold water or even saliva being sufficient.

Hiccough is relieved by a tight bandage about the abdomen, or the inhalation of a few drops of chloroform.

"There is only one specific for hiccough," says Dr. Henry Lewis, "and that is a small dose of wine vinegar, sweetened with as much sugar as it will absorb. I have used this remedy when the annoyance has passed almost into the dangerous stage, and never knew a case which one dose would not relieve and two cure. Sucking a lump of sugar will cure a very mild attack, but is not effective in severe cases.

To cure hiccoughs, sit erect and inflate the lungs fully. Then, retaining the breath, bend forward slowly until the chest meets the knees. After slowly rising again to the erect position, slowly exhale the breath. Repeat this process a second time, and the nerves will be found to have received an excess of energy that will enable them to perform their natural functions.

Ten drops of chloroform upon a lump of sugar is also considered an excellent remedy for hiccough and ordinary nausea.

There is just something I don’t even want to think about with the inhalation of chloroform or doing the last one—not sure if the sugar was to sniffed, allowed to melt in the mouth, or chewed and swallowed.

I think I will stick to the ten sips of water without taking a breath.

What is your best cure for hiccups? What is the weirdest one you’ve ever tried? Did it work?

Throwback Thursday: A Little Girl and a Car

Here's my caption:

Do you think they will let me stand on the bumper and ride to town?

That's my caption. What's yours? Feel free to leave it in the comments below.

Memory Monday: Cooking in My Grandmother's Time And Now

A cooking stove from 1883

COOKING IN MY GREAT-GRANDMOTHER’S TIME AND NOW

In my research, I came across the stove above in a book from 1883—this would be shortly before my grandfather was born. Now can you imagine cooking on a stove like this? But it gets better. See below.

A steaming oven

And then there is this jewel—

A pot where you can cook four items at once

After looking at the stove from generations past, I think about a re-doing my kitchen. I dream of a stove that has two ovens, all bright and shining with lots of knobs and controls, a smooth cooktop where no spattering grease or over-boiling pasta water can make a mess down below. Maybe it will have a removable griddle, or grilling section. But then I think of how I cook—using the microwave well over half the time, my little counter top over for frozen pizza, and as far as smoky, grilled burger, there is a little restaurant I know and love to go there to eat. And then I think of that spattering grease and over boiling pasta water, well, my darling husband cleans up after me. All in all, I think I will keep things the way they are. That way there will be no messy remodeling. Besides, if I had that wonderful stove, I might have to cook more, and that would cut into my writing time (and after all, my husband took over keeping the house—including the kitchen, cleaned and in order—to support me by giving me time to write).

I might love writing about women who used stoves like the one above, but I really wouldn’t want to have to use one. Give me a microwave any day.

Throwback Thursday: Woman Smiling Mysteriously

Here's my caption:

I got a secret. Can you guess it?

What's yours? Feel free to leave it in the comments below.

Memory Monday: Smoking Meat

Smokehouse from Barns and Outbuilding, 1898

SMOKED MEAT

For generations after generations, people have smoked meat. Way back then, they would build a smokehouse and gather enough wood to keep the heat going until the meat was fully smoked. Once they had hunted animals or butchered farm animals, such as a hog, they would put the meat in the smokehouse and start the fire. They would have to continually monitor the heat (and continually feeding wood to the fire) to insure that the meat was smoking at the proper temperature—this often took a long, long time. Now of course, this was to preserve the meat to use at a later time.

Today, I (and my son) do things a bit differently. First of all, he has a portable smokehouse (which he leave at his loving parents’ house, bless his sweet heart).

See it has a smokestack and is on wheels, so it must be a portable house.

Just like my ancestors, I still have a lot of planning and pre-activity to do. I have to get the meat. Now, I don’t raise any animals myself since I live in town, so I go to the local grocery story and get a cryo-vac packet of beef brisket, and while I’m out doing that, I run by the store where they sell special wood pellets that go in my son’s portable smokehouse.

See how I collected the wood?

Now this is where the cross-generational family thing comes in. My son always makes the rub (he bought the recipe off the internet and it is delicious), coats the meat and get it all ready for me to put in the smoker. I start the hard work by filling the hopper with wood pellets, pre-heating the smoker and putting the meat in it at the right time (I have to wait until the dial show that the smoker’s internal temp is hot enough). 

Once the meat is inside, I have to set it to the temp I want and wait (well, if I am doing the over-night, I go to bed).

 The next morning, I cover the meat and put it in my kitchen oven for another ten hours. By the way, my process is not for preserving the meat. Oh, no, it is to cook it so the whole family can get together and celebrate my birthday—YEAH.

Now let’s compare smoking meat from generations before and now:

Then and now—both use a special smoke house.

Then and now—wood was needed to fuel the heat.

Then and now—meat was needed.

Then and now—the heat had to be maintained.

Then and now—a long time was needed to smoke the meat.

Here is what my last batch of smoked brisket looks like.

This is about 15 pounds of smoky goodness.

I’m not sure how enjoyable smoking meat was in my great-grandparents or my great-great grandparents day was, but I really enjoy smoking meat today (and eating it, too).

Throwback Thursday: Color Edition

I have two pictures that seemed to me to tell a story. What do you think?

Here are my captions:

Woman with hand in her pocket: “Think anyone saw me snatch a cookie?”

Boy with hand up: “I did! I saw her!”

Those were my captions. What would yours be? Feel free to leave them in the comments below.