21

I am neck-deep in pie prep. I've got to make 21 pies between now and Thursday. Thankfully, all of the pints of ice cream and frozen custard have been churned, pinted-up, and labeled. And, I've been chipping away at my to-do list so the whole situation feels reasonably in hand. For now.

The other day, I went out into the garden for the first time in what seems like weeks. I needed some parsley to make beef stock and thought I'd better check to see if we still had any growing in the garden. To my amazement, out of a veritable rat's nest of browned/frozen parsley, I saw emerging tender, young stalks. Not very many, but the signs of life were there. In a pique of motivation, I thinned out the bed, harvesting what I needed, and, then, watered the plants. We also have cilantro and dill still growing wild in the chicken area. I even saw a spinach leaf or two. In another area of the garden, the leeks are soldiering on, tall and valiant, in the face of winter-ish temps. I have a little row of purple daikon that will likely never make it to an edible size. Some Negi scallions here and there. A sparse row of spinach. The swiss chard that I had given up for dead isn't completely lost! Small miracles, every one. It felt good to work outside. Especially after a few hours of Christmas shopping on the computer. Christmas is definitely...Christmas- wonderful in its own way. But, getting outside was a visceral reminder of what feels most essential.

Speaking of Christmas...this morning, Willa burst out of her room and her first question was, "Is the Christmas tree here?" She's really excited about it. She is, perhaps for the first time, really conscious of the holiday. I've already warned the whole family that, before we can decorate for Christmas, we must first do a deep clean of the house- and I mean everybody.

The weather forecasted for next Thursday is not nearly as warm as we'd hoped. So, we're going to have to go to plan B for Thanksgiving. We'll hang out outside with Davis' parents, watch the turkey frying with hot drinks in hand. Once the turkey is done cooking, we'll portion up the Thanksgiving meal for Davis' parents to enjoy at home. It's less than we were hoping for but, if that's the worst thing we have to endure this year, I'll take it. We've also invited another family, who cancelled their holiday travel plans, to join us for a hot drink outside and food to take home. In years past, I have always made it a point to invite friends to Thanksgiving dinner who are marooned during the holiday. It feels good to maintain the tradition even under these extraordinary circumstances.

One more story to share from the week and, then, I'd better get to rolling and crimping.

Willa and I went downtown this past week for the first time in ages. I had scheduled hair appointments for us with my stylist. (She has a private studio and I opted for dry cuts, which would minimize the amount of time we spent indoors together. And, of course, we all wore masks.) We also planned to grab take-out and stop at a chocolate shop to pick up a candy apple because she had seen one in the movie Paddington 2 and wanted to know what it was. It was our first real glimpse of what is going on outside our little bubble and it was eye-opening in some ways.

While we were out and about, I marked in silence all the storefronts that had changed hands or shuttered altogether since March. I don't know, folks. What's happening is bigger than us. Bigger than the decision to shop local and tip generously. I hope that the change in government can help the most vulnerable members of our society. I hope that it won't be too late.