Farmer’s Toast

Before most of us sit down to gluttonously gorge on our Thanksgiving Day feasts, we should take a moment to thankfully reflect on all hard workers who plant, harvest, process, pack, transport, prepare, serve and sell our food.

Farmer’s Toast (Godspeed The Plow)

Come all jolly fellows that love to be mellow,
Attend unto me, and sit easy;
A pint when it’s quiet, come lads let us try it,
For thinking can drive a man crazy.

By plowing and sowing and reaping and mowing,
King Nature affords me a plenty;
I’ve a cellar well-stored, and a plentiful board,
And my garden provides every dainty.

I have lawns, I have bowers, I have fields, I have flowers,
And the lark is my morning alarmer.
So you jolly boys, now, here’s a health to the plow,
Long life and success to the Farmer.

Let the wealthy and great roll in splendour and state,
I envy them not, I declare it.
For I eat my own hams, my own chickens and lambs,
And I shear my own sheep and I wear it.

Were it not for my seeding you’d get but poor feeding,
I’m sure you would all starve without me.
I’m always content when I’ve paid my rent,
And I’m happy when friends are about me.

Draw near to my table, my lads if you’re able,
Let me hear not one word of complaining.
For the jingling of glasses all music surpasses,
And I love to see bottles a-draining.

For here I am king, I can laugh, drink, or sing,
And let no man appear as a stranger.
But show me the ass who refuses a glass,
And I’ll treat him to hay in the manger.

This song was originally published as a broadside in the early 19th century, the verses can be found on plates and mugs produced at the time. Nobody knows who wrote it, but he was probably not a farmer.

Thank You!

I’ve decided that four day weekends are what it’s all about.

Thanksgiving day was a raging success. We hosted about 10 people at our table, 11 if you count big bird, and I do, I do count her. She made herself into a wonderful turkey soup the next day as well. Soup on Saturday is probably the best part of Thanksgiving if you don’t include the friends, family, football, movies, beer, blankets, couch, stuffing, phone calls, babies, kids, pets, coziness, naps, wine, no-worky-ness, and you. Which I do, I’d feel bad about not counting those things, mostly because they count more than anything else, holiday or not. The turkey soup is good though. G slaved away all day cooking the feast for all of us. She was so wiped out by the end of the day that she was asleep by 9:00 that night. Neither of my parents were here for thanksgiving dinner for the first time in my life which may have been the only bummer of the entire weekend.

The majority of the weekend involved the list in the above paragraph, with a little bit of extra stuff stuck in there for good measure.


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