Stumpy, thanks for sharing. That brought back memories. My dad, like many southerners, was a story teller. His parents and three brothers lived on a rented farm in the 1920s and part of the 30s. The widowed paternal grandfather lived with them and told his son, dad's father, when to plant, etc. They lived very well during the Depression. Dad was born in 1919 and older brother in 1917. Each had his own mule. Every year dad's mother put up 1,000 jars of fruits and vegetables. She had a huge garden as long as I remember. Her father had a big orchard and made molasses. Everybody shared.
Although they had sheep, none of the women ever cooked lamb. They ate pork on the farm because it could keep. When the grandfather died in 1931, things didn't go as well because dad's father was not really a farmer. Dad and his brother married and lived in the farm house briefly with the parents, still farming. In late 1930s they all moved to Michigan and dad's parents died there.
It certainly was an interesting era and the people seem very resilient and strong. A handshake was an agreement.