By Fire's Light in November Cold

Ox Cart Man

BY DONALD HALL

In October of the year,

he counts potatoes dug from the brown field,   

counting the seed, counting   

the cellar’s portion out,   

and bags the rest on the cart’s floor.

He packs wool sheared in April, honey

in combs, linen, leather   

tanned from deerhide,   

and vinegar in a barrel

hooped by hand at the forge’s fire.

He walks by his ox’s head, ten days

to Portsmouth Market, and sells potatoes,   

and the bag that carried potatoes,

flaxseed, birch brooms, maple sugar, goose   

feathers, yarn.

When the cart is empty he sells the cart.   

When the cart is sold he sells the ox,   

harness and yoke, and walks

home, his pockets heavy

with the year’s coin for salt and taxes,

and at home by fire’s light in November cold   

stitches new harness

for next year’s ox in the barn,

and carves the yoke, and saws planks   

building the cart again.

Over The River And Through The Woods

Three days to go.

Might as well get a jump on things. Look what I picked up at the Hunger Mountain Coop in Montpelier.

Cranberries, grown in Vermont cranberries... how perfect.

I add to the berries (12oz), 3/4 cup of cider, 3/4 cup of maple syrup (I prefer grade B), a splash of orange juice, a sprinkle of orange zest and bring all of it to a medium boil.

And in a hand full of minutes (give or take 10), I end up with this jewel of a sauce.

And a kitchen that smells all sparkly and cheerful (like a holiday). 

The market up the street just called. A little bird (not a turkey mind you) must have informed them I've yet to order our fresh and locally raised fowl we'll be roasting and serving along side the cranberry sauce (with gravy, of course) come Thursday. They (the market) are more than happy to put one aside with my name on it for pickup tomorrow.

We live in an extraordinarily good community.

Here's wishing you a warm and joyful holiday.

Over the river, and through the wood,

    To grandfather's house we go;

        The horse knows the way,

        To carry the sleigh,

    Through the white and drifted snow.

An Attitude

For Gratitude.

I'm grateful for these woods I know.

I'm grateful for energy well spent

And piled high.  

I'm grateful others are not saying goodbye easily to summer.

I'm grateful for sharing in a first time slide in the snow.

And unexpected love notes.

I'm grateful for brand new mornings.

But most of all, I am grateful for precious gifts of love and life... however brief.