The Old-Fashioned Smokehouse

In the back yard of my grandparents’ home in the quaint village of Lynchburg, Ohio stood a small six by six building erected for the purpose of smoking meat. By the time I can recall however, it simply served as a garden storage shed and rabbit hutch. The intrigue it left me with has haunted me for over fifty years, until at last I have one of my own!

Smokehouses have been a traditional part of the American landscape since the colonial days. It is said if you had pigs, you had a smokehouse. Salt was used to cure the meats, while smoke aided in the preservation and added flavor. Smoking kills bacteria, dries the meat, and forms a protective acidic layer safeguarding the product. The availability of fresh pork from the store, along with home freezers began the demise of the historic smokehouse.

Rhonda and I began to brainstorm how best to build the structure when we simultaneously decided to make the small building that holds our generator into a combination generator/smokehouse. 

Construction was soon underway with concrete blocks on the bottom, the original structure sitting on top, while being sided with some old, weathered floorboards. 

A timeworn woodstove, previously purchased at an auction for two dollars, was put in place to provide the smoke.

On the big pig butchering day, we set the hams and bacon aside to be salt cured for about a week. Now for the big test! With the wood stove fired up, hams and bacon hanging in the smokehouse, and a goal of a smoke filled 150-degree environment, we began our escapade. To our delight, the green hickory and apple wood set aside for the duty did well. 

Four hours later, the meat curing was complete and after cooling, the bacon was sliced and all was put in the freezer for safe keeping.

In times past, the meat often stayed in the smokehouse, which was then dubbed the meat house. In our case, we felt more comfortable utilizing our freezers for storage, allowing the generator to go back to its rightful place in the now smokehouse/generator house. We have eaten some bacon, and the taste was delicious! I can now check off another homesteading adventure here on Providence Prairie and wait for new pigs to grow and the journey will begin again!

~Mark

The Great Dust War of 2012

There was a drought in the year 2012. It was hot, dry, and above all… dusty.

Somewhere near the middle of Pleasant Hill, just north of Gobbler’s Knob, lies the battlegrounds of the Great Dust War of 2012. Today you can find it to be a place of peace with lush green grass growing, but in 2012, even the slightest wind would send the dust swirling in all directions. 

When the dust settled, there stood the enemy, waiting, ammunition by their side. It was hot outside, the summer sun at its hottest point was sweltering, and sweat poured from every soldier. All knew this was going to be a desperate battle. The battle that began and ended the war started there that dust-drowned historic day; the Great Dust War of 2012.

The trees still hear the echo of the measured tread of the brave 12-year-old captain by the name of Jeremiah, and his younger brothers and fellow soldiers, Jonah, Samuel, and Isaac. The captain was the oldest of us all and mainly responsible for the idea of beginning the war. Only the stump of a tree remains that was once a hiding place of Jayla and Halayah, the opposing army.

Maybe you have heard, and again maybe not, but the history as to how the war began is uncertain. This is what has been passed down to me (from our older sister who witnessed the battle and shaped up the soldiers afterward). Five-year-old Jonah was sent inside to ask if we could have a dust war. Jonah was the one sent to inquire. Maybe he was the cutest and never really asked for anything much. What it was he asked, no one is sure, but he got a yes, because Rachel figured we must have meant make castles and throw dust at them. Nope. That was far from what we meant. He came out with a smile on his face and the war began.

We filled a 25-gallon container full of fine dust that was easily chipped off from the ravine. It did not take long with how dry things were. That huge container was lugged up the “fort,” (the play castle in the playground) and we had it made. 

Our only setback with the fort was that there was a ladder built into the wall, perfect chance for an escalade, but we girls kept it guarded at all costs, dumping buckets of earth on any who dared to venture up that ladder. The others had to scurry around down below to gather their ammunition. 

With a plastic corrugated pipe as our bazooka, we worked to fill it with dust, threw it, and watched it spiral through the air putting out an amazing display of fine soil. Dust was flying everywhere in the playground. We ambushed and dumped pans of dust on the unsuspecting enemy. The whole playground was a war zone. Interdiction was attempted, but we managed to keep our hoard of ammunition safe from enemy hands. While on the ground, a pail of dust in the air temporarily acted as a cover to confuse the enemy while we would run away, seeming to vanish in a puff of smoke. There were many losses on both sides of the battle, and many replacement soldiers looked uncannily familiar to the soldiers who had just passed. By the time we were through, all that was left were five very dusty children.

We had quite a time! We also had quite a time being cleaned up by our older sister Rachel, having first to be hosed off outside before we could come into the house for a real scrubbing. Water from a garden hose can be so cold!

This is the full account of the one and only battle of The Great Dust War of 2012. Whenever my nieces and nephews come inside from playing hard, all covered in dust, this anecdote comes to mind. It has been a story told and laughed over at many of our family gatherings. The story of five valiant soldiers who braved the battle of the Dust War of 2012.

~ Jayla

Stumbling Upon Snails

A few weeks ago, I decided to go to the pond and try to rake and see what I could find. I searched for a garden rake and found one hanging on the zipline tower. Walking around the edge of the pond, I looked for a mucky leafy spot because the snails love to gather in those dirty spots. When I found a spot I wanted, where a good many leaves were, I started raking them out of the pond onto the bank. I bent down to examine a little pile of the wet leaves to see what I could find.

I turned over a leaf and there was a water snail! I had stumbled upon a shelled gastropod. Excitedly I ran to the house, got a transparent plastic container, and returned to rake out more leaves to find more snails! I filled the container with water, then put a little chunk of wood in, as well as a leaf I raked out of the pond a couple minutes before. I caught lots of assorted sizes of water snails. The biggest one I caught was about one inch, from head to tail. The giant African snail can grow to be eight inches long! That is a monstruous snail.

With the snails safely put into their new home, I got a little bit of lettuce, and put it into the container for them to eat. Water snails cannot see well, but they have a particularly good sense of smell. They eat algae, water plants, little pieces of vegetables, and sometimes water insects that have died. Since they are gastropods, they are slow moving mollusks that travel on one large foot. Snails are invertebrates which means that they don’t have a backbone. They have a shell instead that protects them.

I kept the snails in the container for about a week, then I took them out and replaced the old dirty water for nice fresh clean water from the pond. I also put a fresh piece of lettuce in too. In a couple minutes the snails were all over the leaf dining. Snails can have up to 14, 175 teeth! That is a lot of choppers. Their teeth are attached onto their tongue and used to scrape their food, like a file.

One chilly morning I went out to check my snails. After removing the lid off the container, I looked in and saw the water was frozen! Rapidly I picked up the container and brought it into the house to thaw the ice. I was afraid the snails had frozen. A couple of hours later, I checked on the snails, and the ice was melted, and the snails were eating the lettuce I had put in the day before. I was glad they did not freeze. I thought it was amazing how they survived the ice.

After a couple of weeks of watching them, it was time to let them go. A snail can live up to two to five years in the wild, and larger ones can live up to twenty-five years! I did not want to keep the snails that long. I took them to the pond and put the snails back in one by one. They sank to the bottom and disappeared under the wet mud-covered leaves. It was fun to watch and study about them. The next time I want to catch and keep water snails, I will know better how to keep and care for them.

~Jonah

He Makes XV

 Matthew Grant McDaniel

was born to Jeremiah and Natasha recently.  

He is a precious little fellow.

We are so very blessed as he is grandchild number 15!

March 23, 2023; 4:12 pm

7 lbs., 13 oz; 21 inches long

Too Big To Fit

A windy spring day, I made my way to the chicken house to gather the eggs. It takes a chicken 24 to 26 hours to produce an egg. I had just gathered the eggs the day before and was hoping they would have finished their job. Walking into the pen I peered inside the boxes to see if there were any eggs to gather. There I spotted around fifteen eggs, but in among them all I saw one that was larger than the normal size. I thought that it might be a double yolk egg. It was huge!

A couple of days later Jonah was considering having eggs for breakfast. He asked me about the egg that was resting on top of the egg carton, because it was too big to fit in the carton. I told him that I thought it was a double yolker. He said that he believed it was too because it was so humongous. But there was only one way to find out! We would have to crack it open.

I got the skillet out and Jonah cracked the large mysterious ellipse open. Sure, enough the oversize egg had two yolks in it! The word “yolk” comes from an old English word for yellow. Our farm eggs are sure enough yellow. The most yolks ever found in a chicken egg was eleven! That would be a big banquet in one egg!

Jonah turned on the heat on the stove and after his skillet was hot, he gently slipped the double yolk egg in. He sizzled and fried the tasty breakfast treat. He also seasoned it. Then he slid it onto his plate. It looked funny to see two yolks in a fried egg. Eggs are good for your eyes. They contain lutein which prevents cataracts and macular degeneration. Therefore, Jonah devoured every drop.

It was thrilling to locate the double yolk egg. It is not common that you find an egg with two yolks. I conjectured that it was one because it was so big compared to the other eggs. Sure enough, it was! Unique also found one too! An average hen lays 300 to 325 eggs per year. Double yolk eggs tend to be more frequently laid among young hens than older chickens. Since it is spring our young hens are just starting to lay more eggs. Sometimes the chickens lay eggs that are too big to fit in the carton.

~Isaac

My Own Blackberry Mini Pies

I like to cook; cooking is a lot of fun. I wanted to make something new. So yesterday, Mama showed me how to make something special. They’re called blackberry mini pies. They are so tasty. I made six little ones completely by myself. There’s only a few steps to making these unique little pies.

All you need to make them is…

First Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.

1 ½ c. flour

¾ tsp. salt

Mix together then add…

4 ½ oz. Crisco

Mix together with a pastry blender, till it’s the texture of coarse cornmeal.

Add 3- 3 ¼ Tbsp. of ice water. (or enough to make the dough stick together.)

Then you gather the dough up with a fork then press it in a ball shape. Put flour on the table then roll the dough till flat. Then cut out little circles. Then place them on a cookie sheet.

Now add a big spoonful of blackberry pie filling into the center of each little circle, wet the edges of the dough, and place another circle on top of the pie filling.

Use a Cut and seal hand pie maker to press the circles together. If you don’t have one, then you can use a cookie cutter for the circles and flatten the edges with a fork. Then stick them in the oven for fifteen minutes, and that’s it.

You can make other kinds of pies if you want just to change the pie filling in the middle.

That’s how I make my own blackberry mini pies.

~Unique

The Great Chase

On the fifth of February, as I was walking across the field, I saw some fresh tracks in the soft dirt before me. After kneeling and quickly studying the prints, I determined that these were the unmistakable paw marks of the cotton-tailed rabbit. The eastern cottontail rabbit, named for their short cotton ball-like white tail, is the most common rabbit in Illinois.

I followed the clearly marked trail out of the meadow into a small patch of cedar trees. The dirt had become drier under the roof of cedar branches, and soon the rabbit’s trail vanished. Having no tracks to follow, I continued walking in the direction that the last paw mark pointed. As I neared one of the last cedars, out hopped a young cotton-tailed rabbit! The grey brown rodent bounced a little, then stopped and sat not twelve feet away from me! The second I saw the animal, I froze. I stood in place for a good long while, then slowly sat on a log that was nearby. The rabbit had not moved at all. It just sat there nibbling on grass as if I wasn’t even there. I watched the cottontail for a minute, then began talking softly to the little critter.

The rabbit sat contently eating. It didn’t seem to mind that I was there. As I sat there talking to the rabbit, an idea popped in my head. Maybe I could catch the rodent and keep it awhile! I began moving my body just slightly at first, then a lot more freely as the rabbit sat eating. Cottontails eat grass, tree bark, tree buds, and leaves.

I was just about to slowly move forward, when a crow cawed loudly! The startled rabbit bounded in some thick brush. I stood up and tried following the animal, but soon realized there were tons of little hiding places for it to disappear and that it was useless to continue my search. A cottontail can run up to eighteen miles per hour!

I went back to the house, ate dinner, and then decided to see if the rabbit had come out. After returning to the field, I looked around but did not see the bunny. As I turned toward the house, I spotted a big bush, and under it was the little rabbit! I was very close to the bush, and after I noticed the creature, I was only about seven feet away from it! I slowly retreated out from the brush and ran toward the house thinking of a plan as I ran.

The first thing to do, was to get the permission from Mom and Dad to keep a rabbit. I entered the kitchen where they sat talking and asked, if I caught a rabbit, could I keep it for a while? Dad said that if I caught one, I could keep it. I now had the permission, now for some help. I found Jonah wandering around looking for interesting insects. I asked if he would like to help me with my plan, and he agreed. I had the permission, and the help. Now for the rabbit.

We took our big box trap and headed for the field. When we arrived, Jonah took the trap to the back of the bush, while I kept the rabbit distracted. Once the trap was set, the great chase began. While we both ran at the bush, the startled rabbit slipped out the back way and right into our trap! We carried our captive to the house, where we put it in a separate pen inside the chicken house.

It was exciting to keep a wild rabbit for a few weeks. I enjoyed watching it eat the bits of grass I gave it. The rodent was never completely tamed, but it had gotten used to us. I am eager for whatever I discover next.

~Samuel