Thrasher’s Table

It sure seemed like a repeat of a Sunday morning, and so much so, I was prompted to return to my contemplative setting for a continuation of yesterday’s session once I arrived at office. What I found most touching, as well as encouraging this morning, was my having gone deeper within, than I had since I started over a year ago, but back when I was more heavily into it, I suddenly realized I’d climbed to another point I’d been at in the past, but on on a regular basis. With my now having crossed over another threshold, I’d say I’ll regularly be experiencing more of what I did today.

Just after finishing my repeat of yesterday, my clients arrived to sign their transfer documents on a property we’re set to close the end of this week. After going over their docs and then having them sign, we had a nice chat over the recent happenings in our lives, and it sounded like all’s been good with them during this pandemic. With them soon to be late for work, we bid our farewells as they hurried out.

With it being just after the hour of eight, I changed into my work clothes and went out to help a dear friend take some old fencing down which had been blighting his yard for many years. I was happy the buzzing flies and mosquitos weren’t problematic since we were working away for a good four hours before we had all that fencing removed. I’d say there was at least a good hundred feet of it, and for sure I’m going to be feeling it in the morning after all the tugging, pulling and twisting. What a workout we both had, and before leaving, he profusely thanked me for my help which I know he’ll return in kind when needed. Without a doubt, I believe our society is long-overdue in returning to the centuries-old ways where friends would help each other whenever in need, and the favors were always freely returned.

What I remember from listening to my grandparents tales of when they were young and growing up on farms, there were always those times during their harvest seasons where farmers would get together and help each other bring in their crops, and since thrashing machines were expensive, there’d usually be one that would be pulled to various farms where the neighboring farmers would come and help with a very long-day’s project.

I’m sure you’ve seen old black and white photos of people seated outdoors at a very long wooden table filled with food, and appearing to be in work clothes. Well, that’s what the farm wives were doing while the men were out laboring in the fields, just so they’d would have enough to eat before heading back out in the afternoon and likely working till sundown.

Speaking about those long extending tables with leaves, I just so happen to have two of them. They’re both oak and one of them I use as my very long worktable in the back of my office, and the other is at home which is used as my breakfast table. Unfortunately the one at home, doesn’t have extending leaves to go with it, and possibly some day, I’ll have a set made, just in case I need a table extending to twelve or more feet. Oh, and if you should ever happen to see a table with a leg at each corner and two other ones in the center, that’s what you’d call a thrasher’s table, or harvest table which means pretty much the same thing.

The one I have at home has been with me for a very many years, and I still remember working for weeks one hot summer, stripping all that disgusting green enamel paint off of it, but I’m not complaining because that table is as solid as it was when it arrived. Whenever I have to move it to clean, I’m reminded of how heavy it is due to all the interlocking wooden sliders under its top, onto which leaves are placed and locked together by connecting wooden pegs on one side of a leaf, and then into the holes drilled in another.

My office “thrasher’s table”, is one I purchased from an old gent way back when I was in my early 20’s, and before selling it to me, he told the story of his father having ordered it, and when it finally arrived at a railhead one winter’s day, they had to take a team of horses with bobsled to pick it up and take it home. With that said, my office’s extended worktable has only been owned by two families since it was new. Now that’s a rarity.

Back when I used to go to auctions many years ago, you’d oft-times see them, but now after the decades have passed and tastes changed, they’re rarely to be found. When speaking about it now, I dare say I haven’t seen a real one in someone’s home for at least five or more years. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ll soon be considered something to go searching for in the antique shops, rummage sales and auctions. Just remember, the key to having one complete, is for it to have all its leaves, along with the wooded storage crate in which its leaves are stored when not in use.

After returning to office, I grabbed a bite to eat, rested a spell, and then headed out to my afternoon mowing project. Thank goodness it wasn’t that hot outdoors, as I was plenty tuckered-out by the time I finished. The grass was very long and hard to cut, which was due to my mower breaking down several weeks ago, and then having to wait for it to be fixed. It’s back in good working order now, and ready to take on the world.

Tall grass has always been a haven for creatures we don’t want to know are there, and just as I pushed my mower into another tall clump, there went flying a full grown garden snake in various-sized chunks. Ouch! When I finished up, the neighbor came out to say he’s been having problems with snakes, which prompted me to say, “Well, I think I sent one of the elders to its dirt nap with my mower out back.” Seems we’re getting more snake sightings this year, as I’ve already seen three of them so far this year. Ok, now tell me truthfully. Who left the lid open on the snake pit?

Tonight’s One-liner is: The first reaction to truth is hatred.

Joe Chodur

About the Author | Joe Chodur

First of all....Joe Chodur really doesn't like talking about himself but this is what we have found out about him.

Joe Chodur began his real estate career in 1981 during the...read more about: Joe Chodur

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