Laughing Frog Farm

I went outside this morning at first light, about 6:30, to check out the effects of the frost. 28˚. We had given the sheep a sheltered area, but they were all grazing in the open pasture–their frosted wool backs glimmering. I let the hens out. They were fluffed up looking the size of meat birds, more excited than usual. The greenhouse with the tilapia had stayed above 50˚ and the water was still 60˚. Success! All our short haired dogs, that had the rare opportunity to be inside last night, were running full tilt while we went to each livestock area to break the ice layer off their water supply. I wanted to feed the horses some wet alfalfa pellets, but the hose was frozen, so they just got dry pellets. We southern Texans do not do winter on Thanksgiving very often.
When I was a kid Thanksgiving was all about eating. My mother was the perfect southern cook and much of the meal came canned and frozen from our summer garden harvest.
When we had children in Houston the holiday was all about the kids and me cooking together, while Kenan and Granny tried to keep our mess in check in anticipation of the large family gathering.
Today, this Thanksgiving is about growing the food here on the farm where it is quiet, cold and peaceful. It is about knowing the soil, working with the weather, avoiding the pests, understanding the animals and enjoying one another. Of course I will cook and I will eat.
I hope the best for everyone.
I am thankful.