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| John Edward Burnett Photo taken at The Burnett/e Family Reunion @1979 The Rocky Knob Picnic Area Blue Ridge Parkway
I have been writing this blog for a little over a year now and I have always wanted to write something about my Grandpa Burnett, but I have never been able to do so. I was very close to him and have so many wonderful memories. I know that I will get very melancholy and miss him terribly when I start writing. I could easily fill a book with stories about Grandpa, but I think that I will just introduce you to him today.
John Edward Burnett was born on August 16, 1900. He was born into the family of Marion Columbus Burnett and Martha Jane Cock (Cox). When he came along, there were already six children in the family. He would end up having eleven brothers and sisters.** They lived on a farm in the Burks Fork area of Floyd County, Virginia. Now that I am thinking about it, I don't ever remember Grandpa telling me too many details of his childhood. He typically just spoke in general terms about what life was like back then. However, I do remember him telling me that he loved horses.
Grandpa held many jobs through his life time, but his primary loves were always farming and carpentry. Even when he moved to West Virginia to work in the coal mines, he still kept several acres of wheat at his father's farm. The various jobs that he held is a blog post in itself!
Grandpa was always telling tales. I could never figure out whether to believe them or not because they would have just enough in them to make you think that they could be true. But, boy, were some of them outlandish! I hope to share some of them with you at a future time.
Several years ago when I was getting ready to sell Grandpa & Grandma's house, I found bunches of love letters which were sent between him and Grandma while they were courting. I also found letters to Grandpa from another girl! Some of them make for great reading because Grandpa & Grandma had a very interesting courtship due to his wanting to get married right away and she kept putting him off.
As a child, I was my Grandpa's little "tag-a-long" (Grandpa's name for me!) and I had to do everything and go everywhere that he did. I hope to share more stories about Grandpa with you in the near future.
Grandpa passed away on July 31, 1981. **Grandpa's brothers & sisters Jefferson Lafayette Burnett "Fate" (1886-1924) Charles Thomas Burnett "Tommy" (1887-1958) Washington Irva Burnette "Irvy" (1890-1967 Annie Darthuyl Burnett "Annie" (1893-1934) Sarah Ellen Burnett "Ellen" (1894-1969) Samuel McKinley Burnett "Kinley" (1895-1960) John Edward Burnett "John Etterd or Dettered" (1900-1981) George Dewey Burnett "Dewey" (1903-1979) Ewell Roosevelt Burnett "Ewell" (1905-1969) Early Lee Burnett "Early" (1908-1958) Valirea Cordelia Burnett "Cordilla" (1910-1975) Nancy Jane Burnett "Nancy" (1913-1988) Copyright 2012--All Rights Reserved--The Wheel & Distaff by Kimberly Burnette-Dean. |
Showing posts with label Farming. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Farming. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Grandpa Burnette
Monday, July 9, 2012
Pickles!
Ask me if I like pickles. Go ahead. These are just SOME of the jars of pickles that I have at home. Here is an interesting fact. My husband HATES pickles. So these are ALL mine! BAA-HA-HA-HA!
My love affair with pickles dates back to when I was just a little girl. My family raised almost all of the food that we ate, which means that our basement was always full of jars just brimming with tasty homegrown foods. My mom would usually make sweet pickles and pickled beets. I loved them both. Grandma, who lived across the road, made sweet pickles, bread & butter pickles and salt pickles. I never really cared for the salt pickles because somehow in my mind, I thought that they were "adult food." Go figure!
We always went to town (Hillsville) once a week on Saturdays. Occasionally, Grandpa Burnette rode to town with us. My mom would get her hair done, I would take my piano lesson, and when Grandpa went with us, he would hang out at the courthouse and socialize with the other men who came to town on Saturdays. While in town, we would pick up staples like flour, sugar, meal, and a few other things that we did not produce ourselves.
On this one particular Saturday, Grandpa bought a jar of Mt. Olive Sour Pickles. I had never heard of Sour Pickles before. Later that day, after we were home, I went to Grandpa's house to play. I remember that Grandma was in the kitchen cooking and I was in there "helping" her. That jar of Sour Pickles was just setting there on the table. Grandpa came into the kitchen, opened the jar and chomped down on one of those sour pickles and just smacked his mouth exclaiming that they were mighty good pickles. Then he just threw back his head and started laughing . . . and offered me one. Grandma immediately started scolding Grandpa saying that one of those pickles would make me have a stomachache. Well, you just have to understand. Anything Grandpa did, I had to do. He called me his "little tag-a-long." I followed him everywhere and mimicked him all of the time. I HAD to eat one of those pickles. I was a little scared. I took a tentative bite and made a horrible face. MAN, were those things SOUR!! But, after a second nibble, I discovered that I LOVED sour pickles! After that introduction, many was the time that Grandpa and I would sit on the front porch munching from a bowl filled with pickles!
After that, my Grandma would make me sour pickles when she picked cucumbers from the garden. It got to the point where she was almost using straight vinegar and very little sugar in those pickles in an attempt to make them sour enough for me and Grandpa. She said that they were so sour that they would make a pig squeal! I could eat a whole quart jar of those pickles and still be looking for more.
In the early 2000's I fell in love with Vlasic Sour Pickles. I ate them all the time. Unfortunately, Vlasic stopped making those pickles around 2005 and I was heartbroken. They were THE BEST store-bought sour pickles ever.
I love all kinds of pickles with the exception of those that have a garlic taste to them. Yuck! I am always on a quest to find another really good sour pickle, so if you know of a brand, please, let me know so that I can give them a try!
With meals or as a snack, anytime is a good time for pickles!
Copyright 2012--All Rights Reserved--The Wheel & Distaff by Kimberly Burnette-Dean.
My love affair with pickles dates back to when I was just a little girl. My family raised almost all of the food that we ate, which means that our basement was always full of jars just brimming with tasty homegrown foods. My mom would usually make sweet pickles and pickled beets. I loved them both. Grandma, who lived across the road, made sweet pickles, bread & butter pickles and salt pickles. I never really cared for the salt pickles because somehow in my mind, I thought that they were "adult food." Go figure!
We always went to town (Hillsville) once a week on Saturdays. Occasionally, Grandpa Burnette rode to town with us. My mom would get her hair done, I would take my piano lesson, and when Grandpa went with us, he would hang out at the courthouse and socialize with the other men who came to town on Saturdays. While in town, we would pick up staples like flour, sugar, meal, and a few other things that we did not produce ourselves.
On this one particular Saturday, Grandpa bought a jar of Mt. Olive Sour Pickles. I had never heard of Sour Pickles before. Later that day, after we were home, I went to Grandpa's house to play. I remember that Grandma was in the kitchen cooking and I was in there "helping" her. That jar of Sour Pickles was just setting there on the table. Grandpa came into the kitchen, opened the jar and chomped down on one of those sour pickles and just smacked his mouth exclaiming that they were mighty good pickles. Then he just threw back his head and started laughing . . . and offered me one. Grandma immediately started scolding Grandpa saying that one of those pickles would make me have a stomachache. Well, you just have to understand. Anything Grandpa did, I had to do. He called me his "little tag-a-long." I followed him everywhere and mimicked him all of the time. I HAD to eat one of those pickles. I was a little scared. I took a tentative bite and made a horrible face. MAN, were those things SOUR!! But, after a second nibble, I discovered that I LOVED sour pickles! After that introduction, many was the time that Grandpa and I would sit on the front porch munching from a bowl filled with pickles!
After that, my Grandma would make me sour pickles when she picked cucumbers from the garden. It got to the point where she was almost using straight vinegar and very little sugar in those pickles in an attempt to make them sour enough for me and Grandpa. She said that they were so sour that they would make a pig squeal! I could eat a whole quart jar of those pickles and still be looking for more.
In the early 2000's I fell in love with Vlasic Sour Pickles. I ate them all the time. Unfortunately, Vlasic stopped making those pickles around 2005 and I was heartbroken. They were THE BEST store-bought sour pickles ever.
I love all kinds of pickles with the exception of those that have a garlic taste to them. Yuck! I am always on a quest to find another really good sour pickle, so if you know of a brand, please, let me know so that I can give them a try!
With meals or as a snack, anytime is a good time for pickles!
Copyright 2012--All Rights Reserved--The Wheel & Distaff by Kimberly Burnette-Dean.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Mystery Item Answer
Here is the answer to yesterday's mystery item:
A tobacco basket!
(I need to apologize to everyone. I was just informed tonight that the basket size is approximately 40" x 40", not 3' x 3' as I said in yesterday's post.)
When you harvest burley tobacco you cut the plant down close to the ground. Then you spear the tobacco stalk about a foot from the cut end with a wooden stick. (A removable metal tip is placed on the end of the stick to puncture the tobacco stalk.) You can spear 5-6 stalks of tobacco per stick.
The tobacco is then propped up in the fields for about a week so that the sun will wilt it and turn it yellow. The sticks of tobacco are taking to a barn and hung up to dry for 3-4 months. At this point the tobacco turns brown and is brittle.
Then you wait for a really damp day to grade the tobacco. The dampness makes the leaves become moist and pliable so they do not crumble. Grading means the tobacco is separated into different categories depending on the quality of the leaves.
Once the tobacco is graded, it is put into "hands". (Hands just means how much tobacco can be held in an individual's hand and then it is tied at the stem end with another tobacco leaf.) Then the "hands" are packed into the tobacco baskets to be transported to market to be sold. The manner in which the baskets are packed allows several hundred pounds to be packed in a basket. Sometimes another basket would be placed on the top to secure the stack of tobacco.
(The above information is from an interview with Steve Dean. He grew up working in tobacco with his family.)
My dear friend, Paula Rakes from the Galax,Virginia area, shared the following photo with me of her Uncle Reese grading tobacco.
Here is a video of burley tobacco being harvested:
On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, five golden rings, four colly birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree.
A tobacco basket!
(I need to apologize to everyone. I was just informed tonight that the basket size is approximately 40" x 40", not 3' x 3' as I said in yesterday's post.)
************************
The tobacco is then propped up in the fields for about a week so that the sun will wilt it and turn it yellow. The sticks of tobacco are taking to a barn and hung up to dry for 3-4 months. At this point the tobacco turns brown and is brittle.
Then you wait for a really damp day to grade the tobacco. The dampness makes the leaves become moist and pliable so they do not crumble. Grading means the tobacco is separated into different categories depending on the quality of the leaves.
Once the tobacco is graded, it is put into "hands". (Hands just means how much tobacco can be held in an individual's hand and then it is tied at the stem end with another tobacco leaf.) Then the "hands" are packed into the tobacco baskets to be transported to market to be sold. The manner in which the baskets are packed allows several hundred pounds to be packed in a basket. Sometimes another basket would be placed on the top to secure the stack of tobacco.
(The above information is from an interview with Steve Dean. He grew up working in tobacco with his family.)
My dear friend, Paula Rakes from the Galax,Virginia area, shared the following photo with me of her Uncle Reese grading tobacco.
Here is a video of burley tobacco being harvested:
On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, five golden rings, four colly birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree.
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