I found a great poem about what grandma would have to accomplish before winter came, back in the day. 
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When Grandma Was Ready For Winter
by Eunice B. Trumbo
When the last green tomato was pickled,
And the last blushing peach had been peeled;
When the last luscious pear had been quartered,
And the last can of plums had sealed;
When the last yellow quince had been honeyed,
And the last drop of chili sauce jugged;
When the last stalk of cane had been sorghumed,
And the last barrel of vinegar plugged;
When the grape juice was all corked and bottled,
Corn make into salad, or dried;
When the beets and the apples were buried,
And the side-meat and sausages fried;
When the catsup was made, and the sauerkraut,
and potatoes were stored in the bin;
When peppers were stuffed full of cabbage,
And the pumpkins were all carried in;
When the flower-seeds were gathered and packaged,
 And the house-plants were potted and in;
When the fruit cakes were baked for Thanksgiving,
And the mincemeat was canned up in tin,
The celery blanched and nuts gathered, 
And the beans had been shelled out and hulled;
Sweet potatoes dry-kilned in the oven,
And the onions were pulled up and culled;
When the honey had all been extracted,
Comb melted, and beeswax in molds;
When the jellies were all glassed and labeled,
And the horehound juice syruped for colds;
When the tallow was make into candles,
And the ashes were leached into lye;
When the rushes were bundled for scouring,
And the walnut-hulls gathered for dye;
When the cheeses were unhooped and ripened,
Beef corned in the brine to be dried;
Hams and shoulders well browned in the smoke-house,
Lard rendered from cracklings, and tried;
When the popcorn was tied to the rafters,
And the wood was piled high in the shed;
When the feathers from goose and from gander
Were picked for the warm feather bed;
Women folk were mostly ready for winter, 
To rest as they knitted and sewed,
Spun flax, carded wool, and pieced quilt blocks;
Is it strange grandma’s shoulders were bowed?
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It’s amazing the things that our ancestor’s had to do. 
We take so much for granted. 
The season’s come and go and life is pretty much the same day in and day out. They were amazing people and I love them. 
Happy Family History Friday! Love, Joy

In talking about the Mormon Immigrants and the hardships they endured, I have often heard my Mom say the trip across the plains was hard, but the trip across the ocean was harder. I have read many accounts of immigrants crossing the ocean, and it is always amazing to me what hardships they endured. Some, lost loved ones, that had to be buried at sea, and being sea sick would be so difficult. You would not hardly get a break from that. The close quarters and no privacy would be difficult too. I found an interesting article about the Saints and the trip across the ocean. You can read about it here!
Happy Family History Friday! Love, Joy