GREENWICH, N.Y. — ‘Round the old oak table, it’s where my family likes to be, in this comfortable farm kitchen, it’s how all are greeted, by me.
Fresh baked cookies, chicken potpie, these are some of the homey flavors that waft, luring everyone from outside.
“Sit down, get off your feet, can I get you anything to eat? Tell me all about it, please. Graze on these fresh picked vegetables, and your home grown meat.”
Well oiled from my farm family’s hands; worn, very round, and average that I stand. My pedestal, strong, I make for a good place for anyone to land.
It is here where my family shares their meals, their thoughts, laughs and cries with any who decide to stop by.
Sometimes I seat just a pair, with many evenings an army I have to share. Grab one more chair, it does get a little chummy, but we always fare.
Piles of mail, stacks of Fastline, Country Folk, and Nasco, nary an issue that doesn’t go by without detail.
Farm meetings, neighbor visits, and family arguments, been privy to them all. But no worries, the secret’s safe, never leaving these four walls.
I stand straight, I stand strong, catching any tear or firm hand that may hit my table. I can hold strong and stable, never wavering, I am always able.
I have seen streaks of children run by, in and out, in and out. I have held long silent cups of coffee, seen things through, and items worn out.
I have been around for the ups, and held tight through the downs.
I have witnessed those reassuring hugs, been the center of impromptu dance parties, even sheltering the dog when things got a little stormy.
Falling milk prices, rising commodity trends, weather forecasts, there isn’t much that I can’t withstand.
And years from now, as my little farmers expand and disburse to their own kitchens I know they will all come back. They look to gather in no other place but in this farm kitchen, around me, their old round oak table.
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