Tag Archives: COVID-19

Thanksgiving 2020

A laden table, outdoors. Friends in the garden. Three different pies. A bottle of bubbly. More food than any ten people could eat, let alone just four. Leftovers for several days.

This is how we celebrate Thanksgiving, COVID-style.

The start of the cheese grits, and the beginnings of turkey stock.

I took the turkey carcass (a smoked turkey, from Kenrick’s) and made a yummy stock. A seven-hour slow simmer reduced the liquid by half. And left these remains:

Random musings

I am writing on Saturday, one that is only my second Saturday completely free since Labor Day. The freedom manifests itself as luxury.

So I take long pauses in Morning Prayer at my home altar. I say extra prayers for those I love, those in need, those who are traveling. And I ponder how best to focus my year-end giving for maximum impact on immediate needs.

The Great British Baking Show is such a delight, no? Peter nailed it this week, with a handshake and a star baker.

Full disclosure: in the last couple of weeks I have rewatched the Nadiya and Tamal season, and also devoured Nadiya’s Time to Cook on Netflix, from the BBC. Her ‘egg roll’ has become a quick favorite.

I’m outsourcing Thanksgiving turkey this year, purchasing 12 pounds of smoked turkey from Kenrick’s. And some of their traditional stuffing.

Meanwhile, the obscene fricktard cheese puff in the White House fiddles and furies while Rome burns. In the last week alone, this country has progressed to 12 million confirmed COVID cases this year from the 11 million one week ago. This appears to be a virus out of control, and only a massive unified federal response can lift us out of the horrible winter to come. But His Orangeness cannot think of anything but grift and grab and trying to overturn a valid election through whatever mean he can. He himself is illegal, methinks.

At school we will actually have a full faculty recital this week, streamed on YouTube for a sense of occasion. We have 1.5 class weeks left, and then a week of finals, and this long, strange semester will be over.

I am increasingly hopeful that we will be back to normal early in the third quarter of 2021, perhaps by my birthday.

How quickly a dog can go from fresh-smelling to dog-smelling.

I made an apple galette on Friday, in the midst of lessons, class, a faculty meeting, a webinar, and a recruiting fair in Dallas (all on Zoom).

Granny Smith apples really do cook up very well.

As this is published, we will be in the Last Sunday of Pentecost, the end of the church year, Christ the King Sunday. Advent is but a week away.

My three-week beard disappeared on Saturday:

Didn’t see this coming . . .



If only Governor DO-NOTHING had a crystal ball, or expert help, or science, or a shred of backbone, and had actually seen this coming and done something about it all summer and all autumn.

Imagine how things might now be different.


It has happened.

I have become that guy.

I have become that guy who is perfectly happy to live in, walk the dog in, lounge outdoors in . . . his sweatpants and a sweatshirt.

Or his plaid pajama bottoms. And a sweatshirt.

Preferably one of the items of loungewear has a Jayhawk on it.

Occasionally I will pull on a shirt or a wool or cotton sweater.

But . . . yikes!

I am becoming someone I do not recognize.

Pardon the blue-light filters on the Ray-bans. I happen to want my eyes to not hurt at the end of the day.