Weekly Update: 11.30.25
One of my favorite days of the year is the day after Thanksgiving. After two long days of cooking and plenty of merry making, Friday always dawns at a slower pace. Leftover pumpkin pie makes a great breakfast with a hot cup of coffee. There is no need to cook for dinner, as leftovers always crowd our refrigerator. This Friday, I was fighting a cold I’d had for several days, so I snuggled under a granny-square afghan, turned on my favorite bluegrass playlist, and worked on this post.
It was another out-of-the-ordinary week here on Ozark Highland Homestead, and I think we all enjoyed the change of pace. The week dawned with the last Sunday of ordinary time, also known as Christ the King Sunday. Historically in England, it was also called “Stir-Up Sunday.” The nickname is taken from the collect of the day, which until recent times was shared by both Anglicans and Catholics. It begins: “Stir up, we beseech thee, O Lord, the wills of thy faithful people.” The story goes that women in church would be reminded to go home and stir up their Christmas pudding.
This year, the ladies of our family spent Sunday afternoon stirring up some holiday treats. We made our traditional fruitcake, which is more like a spicy chocolate cake with dried fruit than what many people think of when they hear “fruitcake.” We made my Memaw’s no-bake fruitcake. Lastly, it was our first time trying to make an authentic steamed Christmas (or “figgy”) pudding. Our pudding mold ended up being smaller than we expected when we ordered it, so we made only a half of this recipe. The process was fascinating, involving dried fruit, unusual spices, the candied peel we made last week, and plenty of fresh breadcrumbs. We steamed the pudding for about 6 hours. It smelled delicious, though we won’t get to taste it until Christmas.
After a baking filled Sunday, we woke to a rather exciting Monday when Jeremiah got his first deer. He went hunting on our property right after dawn, as he had on Saturday morning. It was his first year deer hunting, and his expectations were low. To his surprise, his first shot at a deer hit its mark perfectly. We sisters spent the rest of the day helping butcher the deer in one way or another — a new task to all of us. Our niece Chloe was eager to help as well, as she very much wants to learn to hunt herself. Our dad had some experience, but he had to work that day. Jeremiah knew how to field dress the deer, but the actual butchering part was a new skill for everyone. So, I read through some butchering sections in some homestead how-to books, and we got to work. Carla Emery’s “The Encyclopedia of Country Living” was a lifesaver.
At first, Jeremiah and Bonnie-Jean worked on the deer themselves. Bonnie has a very strong stomach, so she didn’t mind helping with the gory project. As the day went on, though, it was clear the job was too big for just her and Jeremiah. By afternoon, she and I sat together at the kitchen table, cutting steaks, roasts, and plenty of stew meat while Jeremiah finished dealing with the hide and carcass. The day ended with Jeremiah frying up some venison quesadillas for himself and anyone who wanted to try his kill. I opted out, but Bonnie-Jean and Grace both liked it.
Once the deer was in the freezer, we turned our attention to the holiday. We spent most of Wednesday and Thursday cooking, whipping up quite the spread this year. This is our first holiday season living in the bunkhouse, and we didn’t let our lack of finished kitchen slow us down. We made all our favorite dishes, along with a couple new recipes. We even tried shaping a few of our rolls in the viral turkey shape — which would have been adorable if I hadn’t slightly over-browned them! When we weren’t cooking and eating, we enjoyed a few games. We also watched in dismay as the Chiefs lost to the Cowboys. It has not been a good year for Kansas City football. As a whole, it was a nice Thanksgiving.
After a restful Friday, I spent most of a very rainy Saturday picking up groceries for the next couple weeks. It was a longer-than-normal shopping trip in a very busy Walmart as my mom and I stocked up on supplies for the first couple weeks of Advent, the Christian season of preparation for Christmas. This year, our mom challenged our family to finish our Christmas shopping before the beginning of Advent, which would allow us to focus on the spiritual meaning of the season. To that end, we picked up several gift orders along with the grocery times.
When we got home from the store last night, we put away our haul and the ladies of the family sat down to help our mom assemble Advent calendars for my nieces and nephew. My mom has been making these calendars since she was a girl herself, when she used to make them for her younger brother. Over the years, she made them for her own nieces and nephews, for friends’ kids, her own kids, and now for her grandkids. When we finished the calendars, we put together a Tipsy Laird — a Scottish trifle perfect for the Feast of St. Andrew, which coincides with the first Sunday of Advent this year.
As we worked, a down-right wintery wind whipped around the bunkhouse, reminding us that autumn is nearly over. Before bed, we started a fire in our woodstove, which quickly turned the bunkhouse quite toasty and warm. We all turned in with a sense of anticipation. Today, we begin to intentionally prepare our hearts for the coming of Christ, as we remember His first coming and anticipate His second. This morning, I found a familiar Advent hymn echoing in my mind — Come, though long expected Jesus, born to set thy people free.
