Our Table

ITs just an ordinary table.  It’s oak, its solid, and it holds more memories, more words, more pictures that a human brain or even a computer could recall if you wanted it to.

There are folks that have gone on to Heaven now, but they once sat at our table. They were once a part of some  beautiful conversations that took place there. Secrets of the heart were shared , along with countless cups of coffee. It was a teachers table as the children were  learning the combination of school lessons as well as life lessons. We as a family had hundreds of conversations around it. We made decisions about our  farm, about our crops, about our  finances,  about our children. We talked and planned and talked so more.

Most every Sunday now  our children, and  their spouses and all their children come to our home for breakfast.  The meal  normally consists of southern made biscuit that fill at least four large cast iron  skillets, and we  fry up about 3 or 4 pounds of whole hog sausage , 3 dozen eggs and multiple kinds of jams and jellies adorn the table.  There is lots of chaos, lots of laughter and lots of love.

About the time that the breakfast debris is cleaned up , dishes are  washed and put away and then its time to  begin thinking about lunch. We  figure out an impromptu menu that will be enough to feed the hungry masses, (depending on the days work project) and then we get started.  Again, once lunch is cleared away and dishes done, we begin trying to figure out  what’s for supper .

Through the winter months  on Sundays , the men folk gather together to  cut and split and stack firewood for the outdoor burner we use to keep this farmhouse warm. The women work on meals and keeping all the children in check. Winters are hard on the kids, not to much outside play and no matter how large the rooms are they never seem large enough when there are 12 grandchildren racing about. If the older kids want to play a board game, the smaller kids steal cards, and checkers and they tend to be a bit of an interference. When the  weather permits, they all  go out side and build snowmen, and snow forts.

Once Spring arrives, the farmstead is alive with activity. Each grandchild has a bike here and there are bikes flying up and down the driveway ,  around the barns, between the other out buildings and any people who may be in their way.  Sometimes we play baseball, which gets better every year as the children are getting older. Sometimes we play soccer.

There are usually baby sheep, a few calves, some baby pigs, baby chickens,  lots of fun stuff to keep a child occupied and keep them grounded in family values and life.

Its good stuff, that we all learn how to work and eat together , its good stuff to learn to turn the other cheek, to grant forgiveness for the small things as well as the larger ones and this life on our family farm is  just plain “Plain good Stuff”.

 

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