tl;dr memories of poverty as a kid: Growing up #GenX poor, being raised by turn of the century grandparents (1908 and 1912) who were coalminers, almost all of my clothes were hand-me-downs and had patches. I was so happy when faded jackets and patched jeans became a fad. lol.
Thinking about this economy, we pretty much ate what we grew, even in the winter. Lots of beans. Pinto beans we grew was the staple of every meal. Only thing we really bought was bread, milk and meat. Even then, some of the meat we raised. Even then, the bread was skillet bread or baked breads we made. A lot of skillet bread.
All our vegetables we canned.
I remember preparing the green beans as shelly beans. Stringing them. After they were dried, they lived in a pillow case until they were ready to be cooked. Many, many pillow cases.
I really wished I had paid attention to the details of the process of her canning. Seasonings, methods, etc. Mamaw used a big iron pot in the backyard of the house to do her canning. Canning day was a big family event and fond memories.
The butchering is stamped on my eyeballs like caskets of eternity. lol. I remember every traumatic step of that (as a four or five year old).