Farmsgiving!

Unfortunately, we're never at Carleton for most of the big, fun holidays. But last Thursday night, exactly one week before the real Thanksgiving, we celebrated Farmsgiving at Farm House. We, and dozens of our closest friends, enjoyed your typical Thanksgiving feast — turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes, pies, and more — in the comfort of the Farm House basement, wonderfully transformed for the occasion.

Enjoy the pictures! And, because Roy insisted, below the photos is a sonnet I wrote to commemorate the occasion. My apologies for the morbid turkey imagery.

 

 

 

Thoughts on the morning after Thanksgiving

Farm House, Northfield, Minnesota

The only thing that's left of it is bones,

Where once was living turkey, feather, wing,

Its offal buried where the oak tree groans,

Its feet now hang like windchimes on a string.

That day were wiser spent, perhaps, alone,

Sequestered with my words, bricked in by books,

But there were pies to bake; when they were done,

The stuffing, mashed potatoes, yams to cook.

And in a day or two there will be snow,

And then, a week or less, we'll go apart,

But wasn't that lively crowd well-fed below? —

Our feast-dulled head revealing lighter heart.

And in that drafty cellar's strange warm light,

There I was full, on one November night.