It rained Sunday, but that only made things muggy and humid. The sun even poked it’s head out Sunday afternoon to end the day on a beautiful note.
But Thanksgiving is around the corner and some of us will climb on a deer stand Saturday. It’s time for some cold.
Thanksgiving should be served from pleasantly hot kitchens and I hate swatting mosquitoes on the opening day of deer season.
But I once had a farmer calmly look me in the eye in a midst of a terrible drought and assuredly say “It’s going to rain – one of these days.”
I’m hoping for cooler temperatures by the time you ready this paper Wednesday.
I’ve heard people comment on how colorful the Natchez Trace is this fall.
It seems a slow temperature drop and a lack of rain kept the leaves on the trees and made the colors sharper this fall.
I know I raked buckets of leave in a myriad of colors this weekend. While the shade of the leaf didn’t make the job easier, it did make the job more enjoyable.
One of the secrets of life is finding something pleasing in every unpleasant situation.
We will rake our leaves this fall. We mowed, or more accurately bulldozed them last fall. I was told by my buddies at the MSU Extension Office raking them into a pile around the base of a tree is one of the best solutions.
My problem is getting Ingram boys to either rake or mow.
My boys do like to burn leaves and I can usually get someone to tend the fire.
Houston is also one of those towns that still lets people burn their leaves. The concept of city government not allowing its citizens to burn their leaves seems foreign to people around here.
We need to be thankful for the little freedoms we enjoy in Topper Town.
Sara got her annual Dear Dinner this past weekend.
Let me explain how this works.
When I need a new scope, deer stand or need to shell out dollars for hunting gear I balance it by carrying my bride out to a fancy restaurant a couple of weeks before the season starts.
When we were newly married she didn’t understand why I would want to leave her alone on the weekend as I hunted my heart out. The Dear Dinner was formed.
Twenty-five years later I sometimes think she is glad to see me leave the house before daybreak, but the Dear Dinner has remained part of the deal.
We head home to eat Thanksgiving Dinner next week. It’s only 45-minutes away and not the 10-hours of previous Thanksgiving.
There is something priceless about getting to tuck my feet under my Momma’s table on Thanksgiving.
I haven’t eaten Thanksgiving Dinner at my house in years. It seems we are always traveling to someone’s home to break bread, say grace and be thankful for all I’ve got.
I hope you get a chance to get outside and enjoy a little of this gorgeous fall weather we have been having.
And I can’t wait for the chill that will send us all inside for a little holiday fun.
Floyd Ingram is Managing Editor/News for the Chickasaw Journal. He can be reached at 456-3771 or via email at email@example.com