As with many social things this year, Thanksgiving was a quiet affair here on the farm. Beth and I made a traditional dinner and shared it with my father (who is feeling much better after his hospital visit a few weeks back) and his wife, Roma. While I was cooking, we broke into our first bottle of the hard cider we made from the crabapples we picked in Minneapolis and local apples in Lovilia. The yeast we used made the cider a sour, but it is tasty and has enough alcohol to keep the party rolling.
Afterward, we went to my sister's house for a bonfire, an easy, outdoor social gathering during a pandemic, but one that is actually pretty extraordinary in its display, warmth and coziness. By 7 pm, darkness and cold encouraged us all back to our respective homes and we were back again at the blue farmhouse on the hill, alone.
It wasn't the huge gathering we had envisioned for our first year in our new home, but with Iowa now in the eye of the Covid storm, it didn't feel like we could chance bringing a lot of people inside for a meal.
But despite the scaled back holidays, Beth and I feel very thankful for what we have. We have each other, our families and our friends. We have Snooks. We have our farm, the beautiful outdoors and our animals to care for. These things are a given.
But as we talked on Thanksgiving about what we appreciated in the world, one thing we both mentioned was our extended family of readers. That's right, we are thankful for you, the people who read our blog posts, who send us sweet notes and grammar corrections, love and support. We feel inspired to write because we know you are out there on the other end, and even if you only tune in once in a blue moon, we are grateful.
So thank you Judy and Janet - two of our biggest fans. Mom - of course you are the support we lean on daily. Tamar and Ken who traveled all the way here, even though there were no cows to hug. Jeff and Sarm and Sasha and Mattu - we are so honored you find us interesting enough to read each week. To Steve and Carol, Sylvia, Peggy, Ellie, Wendy, Barbara, the Minneapolis support team, and all the rest of you we are too forgetful to remember...THANK YOU!
We send well wishes for the season upcoming and hope that you all get through the rest of 2020 safe and sound.
We have been out working on our walking trails and are thinking a lot about how to get housing on the farm for more people to visit. Perhaps you would like a tiny house on the farm to call home or to rent out over the summer? If so, let's talk (email me).
And we hope that next year we will be able to have the event we dream of, with a table filled with family, friends, and indeed, all of you.
Great to catch up on this one today. We continue to be grateful to count you among our friends.
Dear Beth & John: Thanks for some Grade-A, vicarious thrills and spills in a year that can't end soon enough. And I can't wait for the next exciting edition of Whippoorwill Creek Farm's 'Friday Afternoon Gazette.' (Even better than 'The Quayle Quarterly' which chronicled the less-than-incredible journey of Indiana's other living dimwitted Vice President.)
Flattered to be part of your 'happy voyeurs,' and dreaming of a being a farmhand in Lovilia this summer. (Vaccines pending) Stay warm, stay healthy, and stay sane. - Steven
PS: Enid - 'Ya done good!
So thankful for you two and hopeful that next year the world will be in a healthier state and travel will be an option. For now enjoying the ways we are able to connect and stay connected! Love yous!
How sweet!!! I am very thankful to have you as part of my family and of course thankful that I was able to produce a daughter such as Beth. As they say "next year in Iowa".
Count us in for next year somehow. I made two banana cream pies, 3 pumpkin and 2 apples. question: my banana creams came out perfect looking, but when they cooled the texture was slightly granular. why? My pie crusts are always perfect as my friend Jody on Kauai told me to add a few tablespoons more butter... We had our grandkids over for an hour in the back yard at a distance trying out new skis on the hill behind us. eating twisties ( the pastry from excess dough) - then - like you, everyone left and although it was great - I missed the long drawn out family gatherings with pauses for cooking something else, waiting for somet…