Sounds like we were separated at birth. My family on both sides were all farmers during the depression. Momma would tell me about the hogs they butchered, smoke houses, fried chicken and the back-breaking cotton fields and all the things about growing up on the farm. I loved to hear stories about the “old days”. I wouldn’t trade my background of good ol’ east Texas rednecks for all the tea in China. The greatest generation will always be close to my heart.
I've got one of these new electric smokers that sits on my breezeway that I use to smoke meats. Every time I open the door on it, reminds me of that old smokehouse on my grandpa's place. He used "beargrass" (palmetto leaves) to hang the meat with, and hickory wood to add flavor to the bacon slabs.
We didn't have much money, but ate like kings, and never had to worry where our next meal was coming from, and were beholding to no one - probably same as you. ;)