View From The Front Porch-Stan Hitchcock-November 2, 2012

The Ozark Moon has come over the mountain, beautiful on the first cold night of Winter. First frost lays heavy on the ground, giving a silver glow to all. The crops are all laid by, wood cut and stacked for the fireplace and the cook stove, the coal oil lamps cleaned and wicks all trimmed. Mom has been working on a down comforter all Summer, filled with goose down from her geese and stitching and cross stitching with love, to lay it, warm, across the Winter bed. Dad is sitting by the fire, reading by a coal oil lamp, and squinting at some of the words in the Old King James, but working them out to his satisfaction.

Dad feels good tonight, its been a good season, and it's good to rest some now. They butchered a big hog, scalded the bristles off, hung him in the big oak tree in front of the house to clean him out and then cut up every piece to be used. The hams and bacon were smoked and hung in the smokehouse, the fat rendered and canned to be used in cooking, sausage made up, spiced hot for a good morning breakfast start with the fresh eggs from the hen house. Two deer are dressed out and hung to cure in the cold, where the meat will be ground up for Summer sausage, and roasts and venison steaks and some back strips will be cut for some Sunday dinners. The canning of the bounty from the garden and the fruit trees are stored in the cool fruit cellar and the taters covered in straw in the corner of the cellar.

The corn came in at about 20 gallon per acre, the walnut trees gave up their black walnuts and the nuts bagged and took to town to sell. Five heifer calves were sold at the Stockyards and the money used to pay the note at the bank in Harrison, with a little left over for supplies to get through the Winter.

The fire had burned down and Dad banked the fire for the night, as Mom went off to bed. The wind had picked up and a little sleet was starting to come down and rattle against the window.

Dad placed the Bible on the Hearth of the fireplace and quietly bowed his head. "Thank You Lord for my good woman, thank You for my strength to do what needs to be done, thank You for this good piece of land, where we have raised out kids, and this house that shelters us now in our old age. Lord, forgive me if I sinned today and help me to do better tomorrow. I love you Father, and thank You for everything, In Jesus Name I Pray, Amen"

Dad bends down and blows out the lamp, and from the light of the fireplace, makes his way back to the bed he shares with his good woman.

Life is good, as the night closes around the old farm house and the only sound is the popping of the oak log as it burns, low and warm, for this pioneer family in the Ozark mountains who are totally self sufficient, consuming what they raise, beholden to no man and asking nothing from a Government in far off Washington. 1890 was a good year, by golly, and you could sleep the sleep of contentment.   -Stan