Finally, the weather has turned more seasonal for the end of November. I know I complained for months about it being hot and humid — and now it’s chilly and I may start whining. The weather, like my family members, does not respond to criticism.

I’m writing on Sunday this week because of the Thanksgiving holiday. It is forecasting temperatures into the 20s. Honestly, regardless of one’s best intentions, there are always tasks undone. I scurried around bringing the geraniums from the plastic greenhouse into a more protected back room.

Word to the wise for the upcoming colder temperatures. Hoses should be detached from the frost-free spigots. This will allow the water to drain back into the house rather than make the frost-free inefficient. Remember, all the advice I ever offer is a result of past mistakes.

I have yet to pull my leeks but hope to get it done soon. I’ve left them to winter-over in the past and am disappointed in the spring. Too many freezes renders them mushy. The same is true for beets but carrots are real troopers, especially if a hay bale covers them during the worst of winter.

I am reminded of the Thanksgiving hymn Come, Ye Thankful People, Come. Verse one has the line “All is safely gathered in, ere the winter storms begin.”

Several hardy annuals are holding their own. I have a bed of marigolds and its cousin, calendula, also known as pot marigold. The former is completely brown and wizened beyond recognition while the calendula continues to bloom happily.

Pineapple sage, with its bright yellow leaves and red flowers, is beginning to show signs of wear but is still presentable.

A week ago I mentioned a mystery critter hanging around my chicken yard in broad daylight. At first I thought it was an otter, then looked up photos of a fisher cat. Neither looked exactly like the jet black, two-foot long, short-legged creature.

Then, when I was watching an episode of Jimmy Kimmel, he ran a segment of a story out of Ohio. It seems animal rights advocates broke into a facility and released 28,000 minks. Naturally there was quite a bit of comedic commentary. The photos looked very familiar so a quick search on the Google may have confirmed a mink in my yard. It was not as wary of me as I would have liked so my son Reuben and I wondered if it was an escaped pet. Guess we’ll never know.

Every year I grow a large amount of onions from seed. The harvest lasts until late spring. Oddly, the smaller ones hold up better than the larger ones. I’ve always been a “bigger is better” type of person but clearly that is not always the case. This year I’m using the big ones first.

I’ve penned this before on Thanksgiving but that cannot stop me.

Years ago, Alan Wood — the pastor of Christ Methodist Church, known as the Stone Church in Vineyard Haven — passed this out. We used it as a table reading when the children were growing up:

In early New England it was the custom to place five grains of corn at each place as a reminder of the first winter. The food supply of the Pilgrims was so low that only five grains were rationed at a time.

The Pilgrims wanted their children to remember the sacrifice, suffering and hardship that made possible their settlement.

They wanted to them to remember that only seven healthy colonists remained to nurse the sick and half lay in the wind-swept graveyard.

Thanksgiving day is an expression of the rich productivity of the land, a memorial of the dangers and hardships through which we have safely passed, a fitting recognition of all that God, in infinite goodness, has shared with us.

Hopefully everyone enjoys the day with family, friends and food. Let the cooking of leftovers begin in earnest.

I am enjoying the much-deserved accolades for the soon-to-be-former Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi.