Canadian

Twyla

Each year, the second Monday of October, we celebrate Thanksgiving Day. A counterpart celebration to a Thursday in late November for our neighours South of the 49th parallel. A time for gratitude and family, and to switch to colder weather clothing. Our seasons are more pronounced here in the prairie provinces. Especially Summer and Winter. Some years it feels as though we glaze past Spring and Fall in far too big a hurry. Our days are already noticeably shorter! Beautiful autumnal foliage abounds, brought on by dropping temperatures and a few brief dalliances with snow. Warm toned leaves holding on for dear life as brisk winds sweep over our landscapes.

Yes, it’s sweater season. Add a toque. A scarf. Maybe even wool socks. Boots.

But we don’t mind, us hearty Canucks are happy for anything above -40°C! Our thankfulness and appreciation worn on our shirtsleeves this time of year, as we celebrated our Thanksgiving this last weekend.

This is a time for family, reflection, appreciation and great food.

When we gather for a family meal, it is a feast! Generations of stuffing and gravy making skills have culminated in our kin. We produce fantastic fares for the holidays. Tips and tricks passed on through the lineage, create pleasing experiences for the eye, palate and stomach. While we tend to stick to the tried and true, every once in a while a new recipe joins the fold.

I could go on and on about my pride in family and family gatherings. I love them so dearly. But today I’m stuck on one aspect of the get-together: dessert!

Talk about blessings, I was born into a long line of very gifted women in the kitchen.

Pies are the Thanksgiving dessert of choice in our clan. All sorts of fruit pies, made from scratch, with love. My earliest pie memories; Grandma Nellie made the best apple pies. For many years, Mom took on the endeavour. She claims that she never cared for making pies. But obviously enough to make them great. Her lemon meringue pie cannot be beat!

I believe I was about 12 years old when I learned to bake pies. I quickly garnered it’s much more involved than muffins, breads or cakes; there is an art to it. And for some reason, just like my Mom, to this day, I’ve never baked just one. If I’m committing to bake a pie, a minimum of 6 are created. I laugh to myself, while skimming a magazine or Pinterest, when I encounter a recipe for a single piecrust, I immediately dismiss it. If the first ingredient listed doesn’t ask for 4 or more cups of flour, this recipe is not for me. It simply seems disrespectful to the craft!

I’ve made my fair share of pies over the years.

For family meals, special events, and just because. I take great joy in the process and the end products. As a young girl, Brenna took to these pastries!  A natural, if not a little messy, in the kitchen. After a few years of refining her skills, I think she was  about 14 when she made them the first time for the family Thanksgiving meal. They were amazing! Pies quickly became her specialty. She soon tweaked and reinvented and expanded her repertoire. We gladly sampled her fares.

This year, while Brenna remains clear across the country. Her cousin Kenny stepped up to the task!  True to teenager form, she even experimented with a new found piecrust recipe! Dangerous territory.  The results were tantalizing. Sitting there that evening, slicing through the flaky layers on my way through a gorgeous slice of peach pie. I knew exactly what I was most thankful for. Each beautiful bakers’ rendition of a classic recipe. Pie. Good old fashioned, home made pie, created and eaten with love. Pie. Tradition.

 

 

 

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bales stacked in a field
Jim

The Weather

I’m not sure why the change in weather can still surprise me so much. Yesterday I was wearing shorts and hauling hay bales in from the field. The second cutting growth was really coming along. It’s just a matter of time, I thought, and I will need to service the haybine and start cutting this alfalfa. My guess was that this main hay field south of the house ought to produce 200 or so bales. Boy, that’s sure going to come in handy.

Time for second cut

Of course before I can even think to start to cut, I will need to move these last few bales from the hay field. At the moment, they are exactly in my way. Up in the hay yard is where they need to be. If not,  I’ll be spending my cutting days dodging around them. That’s a very messy proposition.

“Just a few loads to go, right Kirby?”

Kirby the Hound keeps me company on some of these hauls. She’s always up for a ride or two in the hay truck. and I don’t mind admitting that I enjoy the company. Although, from time to time she can forget which seat is hers .

So long ago

Well that was yesterday, it’s funny what a day can do.  Today?  Well, today my 200 bale production estimates seem a tad optimistic. Do you remember all those previous years when all that snow fell on us in the middle of September?? Me either. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen this much snow this early. And the weather man is predicting two or three more days of rain and snow. Lovely.

New Production Prediction

So, I’ve downgraded my second cutting estimates a little bit. Instead of that 200 bales I  optimistically guestimated earlier, it’s now slightly less. My new prediction? Zero.

 

Farming can be awfully fickle.  There’s a reason we so often hear the old proverb “Don’t count your chickens before they’ve hatched”. That’s 200 bales I counted yesterday that I shall never see.

As always, mother nature has the last word…

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Welcome sign
Jim

Coming from a farming background Twyla and I decided from the start that we wanted to raise our family in a rural setting.  This was not because we thought farming would make us wealthy, we knew better than that!  This was a choice of lifestyle, not riches.  And now, all these years later, even though we did not become prosperous land barons, as suspected, we can say with certainty that we actually did find treasure on our farm.  Richness, it seems, comes in all shapes and sizes.

The primary goal of our farm was to raise cattle.

Over the years while we were concentrating on doing just that, we found we were soon growing so much more.  We grew grains, gardens, pets, children, recipes, friends, stories, and memories.  It has all been quite the journey.  There can be a lot of chaos at our home but if you take the time to navigate through the confusion there’s usually a laugh or two to be had and a pretty good story to tell to friends at the end.  We hope you enjoy hearing about our farming adventures as much as we do telling them.

When folks think of the rural lifestyle they often picture these smooth rolling green pastures dotted with beautiful aspens and pines, late summer flowers in blossom sprinkled about, with all sorts of farm animals standing here and there enjoying the scenic majesty of sunny mornings.  Not far away will lie abundant fields of grain beginning to ripen looking forward to the fall’s harvest.  And there, in the middle of it all, you will find a perfectly manicured lawn and in the middle of that, stands a beautiful white storey and a half weathered but wonderful farmhouse.  Just a few steps from the house grows a lush weed free garden, bountiful fruit trees; apples, cherries, plums all lining the garden’s edge.  And still a few steps further is this mighty red with white trim giant prairie barn complete with hayloft and horse stalls.  Finally this whole package is framed with perfect white painted fences and a young girl skipping along the path to the barn, milk bucket swinging in hand and humming her favourite Walt Disney theme song.   Sounds nice doesn’t it?

This does exist and you may see it…sometimes.

But usually life isn’t all nicely wrapped up for us like this.   There are times when those rolling pastures could use a little more rain and that grain could use a few less weeds and a lot less grasshoppers.  We all love aging barns but still, it’ll need some paint and a nail now and again.   Let’s not forget that garden.   Constant attention to that and the orchard is needed if we plan to have plenty of good food for the winter.  Have I mentioned fences?  Fences are in constant need of mending.  Without good fences your livestock will soon put themselves on a first name basis with the neighbouring tribe.  Not good.  Farming is rewarding, for sure, there’s not a doubt in my mind about that, but it takes a lot of work and of that I’m just as certain.

We have strived to create that picturesque farm we have all imagined and we will share with you the stories that grow with us as we try to reach that goal.  So keep an eye out for all of the ‘sugar coated’ farming experiences we plan to send your way.  They are fun.  But keep in mind life isn’t always like that, so we also plan to share with you those little things that don’t always go to script.  In our world, we tend to experience the latter far more.

I guess we can say we’re doing ok.

Most times we can drive the road of life pretty well, but of course sometimes we do end up swerving or sliding a bit and then there are those times we end up completely off that road and right through one of those nice white rail fences we’ve chatted about.  But almost always you can find something in the whole experience to laugh about…or at least to share.  Ok, I guess that brings me to the end of my very first post.  In closing, let me say this – Welcome to our little slice of rural imperfection and the tears and the laughter that have come with it.

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