My Uncle Jim raised pigs and chickens on his farm, often feeding them leftovers from the Rathskeller, a restaurant where he worked as a cook for many years. Sometimes, he’d come get me and my siblings in his pickup truck, and we’d ride in the bed to help him feed the hogs. One of their favorite treats was baked potatoes, foil and all. I remember asking if we should remove the foil, and Uncle Jim said, “No, they like to lick the foil!” It was so much fun hanging out at Uncle Jim’s farm, and I remember those visits as his way of spending quality time with us.
At Christmas, Uncle Jim would come to the window of our home, claiming to be Santa Claus. Every child knew you didn’t want to be awake when Santa arrived, because he would put pepper in your eyes. We’d run screaming, and he’d have a jolly laugh while giving us big hugs.
