Thanksgiving Warmth

Thanks and Giving turned a year old this week.  Our twin Hereford heifers arrived last year and were named in honor of this special holiday.  Their first birth anniversary day was much different than the day they came into this world.  Cold rain and muddy pastures welcomed them into the harsh reality of farm life 365 days ago.

We had spent the day at my parents’ farm and got home just before dark to feed and check the herd.  While other families settled in for a warm comfortable evening with bellies filled with turkey and all the trimmings, Mike and I each grabbed a calf and began guiding it toward the barn and a waiting bed of warm straw.  The twins’ mother hurried along beside us, in front of us, behind us, “mooing” her concern and letting us know she was watching our every move.

Once they were out of the rain and wind, the twins took turns nursing as the cow licked them dry.  I sloshed back through the barnyard to the fence as Mike finished feeding the rest of the herd.  The cold rain put a damper on the day, and made me shiver as I thought about the fact that this frigid weather was just beginning the winter season.  It was quite a rough winter, with lots of snow, ice, and cold.  Summer temperatures tend to melt away memories of the challenges four-foot drifts, ice-crusted pastures, and frozen ground present to farmers from December to March, and sometimes April as was the case this year.

The older I get, the less I like cold weather.  If I could hibernate through the cold months of the year, like a bear, I would.  Unlike bears, however, I prefer my den to be 70 degrees and inside my warm house with a fire blazing in the wood stove.  But, when you farm, staying inside when it’s cold is not an option.  There are always things that have to get done and hungry mouths to feed.

This year’s Thanksgiving, with its warm temperatures, was a treat.  I didn’t mind spending the morning at the barn as my dad and I replaced a broken window pane on the west side of the windows under the forebay.  A pesky pigeon had crashed into it, causing pieces of glass to fly everywhere as the lucky bird flew off unscathed.  The missing window pane was forgotten while the weather was warm and mild.  But, as this week’s pre-Thanksgiving cold rains reminded me, winter weather is fast approaching.

I had measured the window’s empty space and had picked up a replacement pane at the hardware store earlier in the week.  I held my breath as Dad removed the metal brads, scraped the old glaze off the frame, and gently eased the new glass inside the wood window frame.  It fit perfectly.  Now all we had to do was replace the triangular –shaped nails that held the glass in place and glaze around the edges.  I was happy the weather cooperated and the temperature outside was nearly sixty degrees since the glazing compound doesn’t stick when it’s below forty degrees.

Working the glazing putty between my fingers and then rolling it into a long, worm-like piece of goo, I handed the white stuff to Dad.  With putty knife in hand, he showed me how to press the glaze into the edges and smooth it with an easy motion to form an angle that kept the glass in place, sealed the wood frame from damaging rain drops, and filled the air space between glass and wood.  Once we finished the new glass pane, I found other windows that needed some attention before the cold winds blast against the barn windows.

We could have kept glazing for hours, but the turkey dinner was almost finished.  We called it a day, with Dad reminding me to get the glaze painted as soon as possible.  If the warm weather cooperates, I may be able to get that chore done before spring.  Unfortunately, the weather forecast is calling for a dramatic drop in temperature in just twenty-four hours.

I enjoyed spending the morning learning yet another lesson from my Dad.  There have been countless lessons during my lifetime that he has shared with me.  From him I learned about farm chores and equipment repairs.  After five decades, he is still teaching his farmer daughter new skills that I value and will pass along to my two-decade-old daughter, Emilie.  Even though Dad’s finished section of window looks far-better than mine, I am proud that our combined efforts have once again sealed in the barn’s warmth and it’s ready for winter.

I shifted my attention from outside work to the farmhouse kitchen where the aroma of the finished turkey filled every room.  I joined my mother and daughter in putting the finishing touches on our meal and filling every available space on the dining room table.  The good food is a gift from God, and its scrumptious preparation is a gift from three good cooks.  Those culinary lessons from Mom were shared with me and Emilie over the years, along with her special family recipes.  These, too, are important skills to pass along to the next generation.

As a family, we sat down to a traditional Thanksgiving feast.  Our table welcomed Emilie’s college classmate and boyfriend, Austin, who had tried his hand at glazing windows, but knew enough to stay out of the kitchen until it was time to clean up the dishes.  Soon he will head back to Kansas State University to finish up his formal education, but his life’s lessons will continue with each new day.  While he may never need to use the window glazing lesson on a Kansas barn, I bet he’ll never forget what he learned this Thanksgiving from a well-seasoned Pennsylvania farmer.

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