Thanksgiving 2026

We did not know what we were doing. Three days is a lot of Thanksgiving. We decided to do the thing on Sunday and then just make soup and bake cupcakes and binge the Office on Monday, so I over-brined the turkey breast and made a tiny (slightly too salty) feast for two. We peeled a hundred tiny apples for the pie, ate two slices of it, and now there’s an enormous pie in the fridge that neither of us are going to eat because we just don’t go looking for leftovers until it’s time to clean the fridge for garbage day. The crows were very excited about the hot popovers.

I planted tulip and daffodil bulbs. We painted our nails black. Zenny knitted a hat. I painted some plums and avoided eye contact with the portrait of my aunt and cousins I’m supposed to be working on (hey, I need uninterrupted hours to do it right, not just 45 min while the casserole is in the oven. I can paint a single plum in 45 min, though). Did laundry. Went to the gym. Visited the thrift store. Picked the last fruit off the tree and made more jam. Zenny played online with her brothers. Somehow it still feels like we didn’t do anything all weekend. Part of this might have to do with the fact that we bought two fluffy bath robes at the thrift store and have been wearing them around the house like fur coats. Every activity is a leisure activity in a fluffy robe.

I finally slept the night, two nights in a row. (But not three - woke up at 1am holding on to a hand that wasn’t there.) The first frost arrived this morning, sugar-coating the deck railing where I put out food for the blue jays and crows. I gave them a slice of pie and some peanuts, reminding myself to hang the suet feeder for the little birds now that it’s cold. I put on my heavier Sherlock coat, found my toque and gloves, and sat in my car with the heat on until I could see out the windshield, annoyed that I forgot to refill my wipers with the anti-icing fluid that’s sitting in my trunk. Zenny is excited to feel the seasons changing, making plans with her friends for Halloween. I have no idea what the trick-or-treating situation looks like in our town, or how much candy to buy, but I’m ready to decorate the porch and give it a go. 

Feeling good about getting the jam and tulips done in the nick of time, and waiting for my treat in the mail: an outdoor camera to finally figure out what large animal likes to park its butt on our front lawn at night. Fingers crossed for a fox or a moose, and not a bear.