Sorry, couldn't resist. Tune of "Merry Christmas to You"
Leaves are steaming in a compost pile
Chickens scratching at the dirt
As for piggies, we are done for a while,
And apples pressed begin to spurt.
Everybody knows the smell of homestead Christmas time
Cider, ham and fire-light
Scent of pine as we put up the tree,
Then sorting seeds half through the night.
We know that spring is on its way
When all the fun of planting starts again
But for now, we put the plans away,
To spend this time just thinking --oops! Sick hen!
And so I struggle with this simple phrase
The words don't come but I must rhyme.
My homestead Christmas, it will pass in a daze.
Merry Christmas to you.