We couldn’t work it out to have everyone tested and quarantined in time for Thanksgiving. So we planned to come by for a brief, outside-only visit on Turkey day. But then the forecast said rainy, rain, rain all day. So fuckit, we said. Wednesday looks better. Let’s get together and eat all the pies Grandma made on the day BEFORE Thanksgiving.

We bundled everyone up, sat by a fire pit and ate cookies, and drank hot chocolate out of Santa’s head. We argued that apple pie has to be served with a slice of cheddar so sharp it makes your jaw twitch. And you have to say Pecaaaaahn and not Pee-Can because that’s a can for peeing in. The kids climbed trees and played hide and seek and someone found an oyster shell which the puppy tried to eat. J stepped in dog poop, so we walked to the ocean to wash it off. There was a small, quiet pause when we all realized he’s big enough to fit in my sisters old running sneakers.

It’s not the same Thanksgiving this year. But it was flexible and it was warm and it was safe.