My great grandmother was born in 1912. She raised a family through years when nothing came easy, and everything was worth saving.
I knew her well into my 20s, thankfully. She always had something on a stove at her house. And while she didn’t have much money, she could always make a meal, a dress, or a cure out of next to nothing.
I didn’t realize at the time that she was teaching me anything. Now, I use her tricks almost weekly. Here are 23 skills she passed on to me without ever calling them lessons.
The Jar by the Stove That Flavored Everything
She had this small coffee can of bacon grease that always sat beside her stove. And while I have a jar of it in my fridge, I thought it was strange until I tasted her green beans. A spoonful of drippings gives vegetables, cornbread, many other food items, a depth you can’t buy. I think I keep mine in the fridge because that’s what my mother does.
Turning Bones and Scraps Into Liquid Gold
She never, and I mean never, threw out chicken carcasses or vegetable scraps. Every last bit of it went into a big pot at the back burner for hours. It creates a rich broth that made our soups taste like restaurant quality. And now, I keep a bag of scraps in my freezer for exactly this.
Feeding Six From a Pot Meant for Three
My great grandma was the best in the family at stretching a meal. The more rice, the more broth, and an extra potato, and suddenly it fed whoever showed up to her house. And since a meal is about how generous you are with what you have, I still use it for surprise guests.
The Two Cheap Bottles That Cleaned the Whole House
Unlike me, she had no cabinets full of products. The only two she ever used were vinegar and baking soda. Those two items cut grease, they freshened drains, they kept counters clean. And they cost almost nothing, even today. I like to mix my own spray and don’t mess with the expensive stuff anymore.
Wasting Absolutely Nothing, Ever
This isn’t just for the kitchen. You name it. Worn shirts became rags, stale bread became crumbs, and jars held everything. This isn’t about being cheap. It’s about respecting what’s already in the house. And that mindset has saved me more money than any budget.
Saving Seeds So You Never Buy Them Twice
I swear, every fall she dried seeds from the best tomatoes and peppers on a paper towel in the window. Started the whole garden again in the spring. Probably never bought a seed packet in her life. I started doing this a few years ago, and it just feels like a small act of independence in a way.
Keeping Vegetables Good All Winter Long
If you have a basement, consider getting a root cellar section. Potatoes, onions, apples, and squash can be kept in there for months. So I’d love doing this because I love to grow my own garden. And the secret is the darkness, the cool air, and knowing which things to keep apart. I have a similar spot and waste far less produce than I ever did before.
Cooking by Feel Instead of a Measuring Cup
I like to say I measure with my heart. I never saw my grandmother measure a single thing in life. She felt the dough and knew, smelled the pot and knew. It took me years to understand that cooking is more than just following instructions. You always should taste and adjust as you go, just like she taught me to do.
The Remedies She Reached For Before the Pharmacy
Back in those days, just some simple household products could be enough to make you feel better. Like, for example, honey and warm tea for sore throats, or a spoonful of something strong for a stubborn cough. She had an answer for every small complaint. And don’t get me wrong, this doesn’t replace a doctor, but it definitely handles the little things. I still reach for honey and tea first.
Making Anyone Who Walked In Feel Like Family
When you walk through her front door, you could smell the soup on the stove. And there was always an open chair at the table. It really didn’t matter if you were family, a neighbor, or a stranger passing through. She had a way of making people feel comfortable with no effort at all. And I work on keeping that same door open to this day.
Turning Worn-Out Scraps Into Something Beautiful
Quilts. That’s it. That’s the one thing that she always seemed to make for us. And it didn’t come from new cloth from Joann’s, or from anything special. She always made them from old dresses and shirts. Every patchwork square came from a family member’s clothing. And not only was it sentimental and useful all at once, but it’s on my bed right now, and it’s probably the warmest thing I own.
The Drawer Where Nothing Was Ever Thrown Out
These days, we call it the junk drawer. You know, the drawer full of buttons, strings, rubber bands, random hardware. Sure, it looks like chaos. But when something broke back then, she fixed it in minutes. She saved hundreds of trips to the store. And now I have my very own version, a.k.a. the junk drawer.
Starting the Day Before the Sun Came Up
For an old lady, she was up and moving before anyone else. But over time, I learned that those quiet hours made the rest of the day feel organized. I put it off for years before really giving it a try. And now I intentionally wake up early, and it makes me feel the most in control of my life.
Counting the Blessings Out Loud
No matter how bad money got, she always said what she was thankful for at the dinner table. It wasn’t an act, it was how she stayed calm. Saying it out loud cuts problems down to size. I do this even on the heaviest days.
Making Soap With Her Own Two Hands
Making soap is a simple DIY project that I do today. It’s plain, slightly rough bars, but they last forever. And nobody has ever complained about irritated skin. Watching her make something that ordinary, completely from scratch, stuck with me.
Looking After the People Next Door
My great grandmother knew everybody on her street. And exactly who needed checking on. Simple gestures like a plate of food would quietly go next door. Nobody would ever know. The neighbors were just a part of how you got through the hard season. I actually try to be that person on my street today.
Trading What You Had for What You Needed
Eggs went out the door and jars of jam came back. Always trading with the neighbors. Money almost was never involved. Bartering was literally a way of life. It built a whole network of people who genuinely cared about each other. I still trade garden vegetables every summer because of her.
Waiting for Something Instead of Wanting It Now
I watched my great grandmother wait a long time for the things she wanted. Everything in that house was paid for in cash. Nothing on a whim or on credit. Having something she waited for meant more. And now that we live in an instant world, this is probably the hardest lesson she left me.
The Table Where Everyone Sat Down
Dinner was at the same time every night, and everybody was there. There were no radios, no TVs, no distractions, just good old family and food. One hour of news, arguing, and laughing. I fight to protect that hour now.
Doing a Job Right the First Time
She had no patience for half done work. These days we call it half assing. A floor got scrubbed properly or it got scrubbed again. Felt strict as a kid, but now I know why. It’s really faster to do it right the first time. And I’m very thankful that she taught me that.
Telling the Stories So They Never Got Lost
She always talked about the people who came before us. Her mother, the farm, the hard winters, every funny thing her cousins did. I know where I come from in a way that my kids probably won’t. So I retell those stories just to keep them going. And of course, I like to add in stuff from my own personal experience too.
Pressing a Shirt Until It Looked New
I remember watching her iron, and iron, and iron an old shirt until it looked brand new. Some people thought it was unnecessary, but she saw value in presenting herself well. A pressed collar adds intention to an outfit. That’s something she would always say. I iron more than any of my friends, and I blame her entirely.
Reading the Sky Instead of a Forecast
She could literally look at the clouds and knew whether to bring in the laundry. Years of watching taught her what the sky would do next. And I’m telling you what, it’s not magic. It’s just making it a habit of paying attention. I try to look up more and stare at my phone less. And where I live in Colorado, you can literally smell the rain coming in.
