FINAL TURKEYS
Yesterday we processed our final group of turkeys, bringing to an end the 2019 poultry season. We're always glad to see the last bird go in the fall because we're tired and rich. We're glad to see the first ones come in the spring because we're rested and poor.
'Tis the cycle of the seasons, the ebb and flow that naturally comes when you farm as part of the environment rather than distinctly apart from it. Ours is a calling to immerse, not to separate. To integrate, not segregate.
The last poultry processing day of the season, therefore, carries lots of emotions. We're grateful to survive another season. We're eager for the winter down time to plan and refresh. We're sad to see the green grass turn brown as temperatures drop and vegetation goes into its rest cycle. We're excited about the changes we'll make for next year, the refinements and developments, to do better.
We also think a lot about the number of people who will enjoy one of our turkeys in the next week. We don't take this lightly; it's an honor and privilege for our craft and dedication to be invited into Thanksgiving celebrations. From the turkeys going by us on the processing table, we imagine looking up into the smiling faces of assembled family and friends.
Here at Polyface, our constant refrain this time of year is "we're helping a lot of Thanksgvings to be celebrated with happiness." Isn't it right and proper to have this gracious pause before the Christmas season? Thanksgiving is the calm before the storm, a day of reflection before a day of commerce. That's a good thing.
We call this final two weeks prior to Thanksgiving "Turkeygeddon." Like Armageddon, but with turkeys. We still have about 70 turkeys available, so if you've delayed, let us know and we can provide a home for these birds. And Saturday, here at the farm, we have a pop up artisan's market and celebration so if you've ever wanted an excuse to come out to the farm, this coming Saturday is a good day.
The biggest internal joke around here is how militant people are about the difference between a 12 pound and 13 pound turkey. It's hilarious to watch our wonderful patrons hem and haw over the size of a turkey: "wow, 16 pounds; I wasn't thinking about something that big." We bring out a 15-pounder: "oh, this is just right!" Now dear people, you cannot tell the difference between a 15 pound turkey and a 16 pound turkey. I can't and I've handled lots of turkeys
People really get picky about their turkeys. And if it's not quibbling over a pound, it's concerned about size overall. In our family, we love a big turkey with lots of leftovers. Half the fun of Thanksgiving is enjoying that turkey for the next week. You'd be surprised how many people want a 12 pound turkey, or even smaller. I realize not everyone feeds 10 people around their Thanksgiving table, but 12 pounds, really? As Daniel said yesterday when a few of these smaller turkeys came down the processing table: "we won't make money on that one, but it'll sure make someone happy." That is indeed the true Thanksgiving spirit, and we appreciate every bird and every table and every patron.
So raise your glasses to gratitude. Forget about the election for a day. Forget about impeachment for a day. Forget about the bully or weirdo across the street. Forget about the relational trial at work. Forget about the bills. And just take time to be grateful and thankful. When you open the news and see Hong Kong, Africa, Syria, be thankful you live in America. It'll do your body good.
What size turkey do you want?