Thanksgiving is finally here! For this homestead that means the end of harvest of both produce and livestock, firewood and hay are all put up for the Winter and all my goats are bred for an early April freshening. It’s finally time to settle on down in front of the wood stove and reflect on all the blessings of another year.

Our wonderful companion dog, Bingo is still able to negotiate the stairs outside despite his degenerative myelopathy, now in its third year. Just like his master, he suffers from occasional vertigo but not a complaint from either of us as there are many with far more serious and debilitating conditions. We’ve all survived 2020 without so much as a sniffle, and haven’t suffered any angst over current political situations either, because God has it all under control!

This year’s festive fowl weighed in at a shade over 45 pounds when dressed out so, with only some of our family joining us this year (don’t want to trigger the ‘Karens’ by saying how many), those who will be here have been instructed to bring lots of Tupperware… This was the first year that our Grandson, Chaz helped us harvest the turkey, and though he has been involved with the preparation of broilers in the past, traditions are meant to be passed along to future generations. Just think, instead of telling their own children about how they walked to school, two miles up hill in both directions, they’ll be reminiscing about the years they had to wear masks all day and stay six feet away from everyone else. That’s why some things just must not change, providing an anchored foundation when the world gets weird. It’s called ‘tradition’, not to impede human development, but to provide a benchmark against which any ‘new normal’ may be evaluated.