The Joy of the Fall Harvest

The falling leaves...

October 26, 2011:

Good Morning, Readers!  I was thinking this morning about the wonderful flavor of the fall harvest.  Why don't you grab a cup of coffee and let's visit awhile.  With Michael and Sadie in North Texas and Toby and I here in Central Texas, we're in need of some company!!


My mother's family homesteaded a farm in Stevens County Minnesota and my father's families homesteaded farms in Pope County Minnesota.  The farms from my father's side of the family had been broken up by the time I was born but my mother's family farm was in full swing for many years.

Time:  Late 1940's and into the 1950's

The harvest was always an exciting time of the year.  The seeds had been planted in the Spring and watched over until harvest in the Fall when wheat and corn crops were ready for picking. It was a time when all hands were on deck from the youngest at the farm to the oldest.  Everyone had a job to do.

The women cooked and baked, which to a young girl like me, seemed like from morning to night as the table was always full of hungry workers.  Those that couldn't stop working received lunches in the fields.  There was breakfast ... mid morning lunch ... noon lunch ... afternoon lunch ... then, a big supper at night.  That's a lot of meals to prepare besides keeping up with the laundry, house cleaning, and tending children.  My mother would join her sisters and mother to wring the necks of the chickens, get the feathers off (pluck), scald, then can them.  What an ordeal ... all done outside except for the canning.  Chickens were running all over without their heads ... what a gory sight for kids.  On the one hand, we thought they were funny looking and on the other we weren't too keen on how those heads got wrung off.  When those women were busy, we (kids) knew to stay out of the way!!

I can understand how farm accidents happened.  My gosh, the tractors and farm equipment of that day weren't safe ... many men got arms, hands, legs, and fingers ripped off.  Some were killed.  There was no such thing as being too young to drive a tractor or help bring in the harvest.  I used to stand and watch as the grain went into the silos wondering what would happen if one of those men slipped and fell in.  Thank goodness that didn't happen ... at least not on the Hall Farm.  Men and boys worked from sun up to sun down ... this was the culmination of their hard work and this bounty was what they would sell and live on for the next year. 

During harvest, my cousin, Sandy, and I would head for the apple orchard and eat apples til we were nearly sick.  We filled our wicker baskets with apples to be baked in cakes, pies, and canned.  As little ones, we were so proud of our own harvest gathering!  When my cousin, Gordy, was done working in the field, he, my brother, Sandy and I would play in the hay mow in the big barn.  We would swing on ropes into the hay chasing away the mice.  We would laugh when we heard them squeak.  Sandy would say, "The cats will get them!"  We had no fear of the bats, mice, and rats lurking in the corners of the barn ... they were just part of barn life.

My mom talked about barn dances and so did my dad.  Harvest was a time when family bands could gather and friends could enjoy hours of fun in the crisp cool air or in warm shelters.  After a long day of harvest, I remember standing out in the middle of the farm yard looking up at the sky ... it was so dark but the stars were twinkling ... I wrapped my coat around me tighter and knew I would remember that night forever.  I have, too!  Even now, I am able to shut my eyes and place every building on that farm including seeing the cows drinking water from the tank to the right of the barn.  My mother and dad would bundle my brother and I into the back seat and we would sleep soundly from Hall Farm to my hometown of Glenwood.  If my father and mother were needed for the next day's work, we would be up and in the car come sunrise!  I can hear my dad now, "I hope Marge has the coffee on!"

Because I have such fond memories of my days at the Hall Farm, my love of Fall and the harvest has always been a favorite time of year for me.  I love tromping out in the woods gathering twigs, grasses, and horse apples; I love wandering through Trade Days looking at the wares brought in by artisans, farmers, and others selling their goods;  and, I love bonfires and cooking smores. There's nothing like spiced hot cider to warm the cockles of my heart at a football game; and, how can I forget the beautiful bounty of nature in the colorful trees, flowers and shrubs.

Looking back, I have a treasure sack filled with special memories of Hall Farm:

• The outhouse in the woods ... toilet paper? ... the Sears catalogue
• Cooking on the wood stove
• Canning jars of fruits and vegetables for the Winter
• Watching my grandmother and aunt use a broomstick handle to fish laundry out of a scalding-hot tub of soapy water in a wringer washer
• Visiting a house where the only running water is in the kitchen sink
• Storing garden produce in a dirt-floor cellar
• Talking on party-line telephones
• Going to town on Saturday nights ... my five cents burning a hole in my pocket

Although my childhood had some times of trial that wounded my soul, I also witnessed first hand what it meant for families to band together.  No one asked my mother and father for help, they just knew that it was the right thing to do.  My father would say, "Hard work never killed anybody, but laziness will."  He was right, hard work keeps our bodies strong and develops self-esteem.  My father also told me something else that helped me in life, "You figure it out."  I learned to use my brain for problem solving and was so proud when I did figure "it" out!

I pray that the seeds you have sown in your own lives will bring you harvests of peace, love and joy.  Once again, I have started new gardens at the little casa.  My hands are dry and chapped, my face wind burned, and my arms and back ache.  Yet, at the end of my day of work, I sit on the patio and can admire the fruits of my labor.  I tend to the relationships that God has placed in my life doing my part to nurture and fertilize them.  Life is good.

I will be closing up shop at the little casa in a few hours and heading North.  I am always sad to leave but am looking forward to reconnecting with family and friends in North Texas.  My little grandsons have their last t-ball and baseball games on Saturday and I wouldn't miss those for the world!!

Until next time, always remember you are loved and prayed for ... YA YOU!!

Blessed is he who has found his work;

let him ask no other blessedness.

Thomas Carlyle ~ Scottish historian and essayist (1795—1881)

Fall flowers are ablaze at a little nursery in Cleburne, TX!