As previously noted, Thanksgiving did not happen last Thursday. Not in the barn, at least. We moved the feast to Friday to accommodate a friend and spent Thursday on other adventures.

First up was a walk to the playground. Kato rode on my shoulders. August rode in the wagon. Alden insisted on pulling.

We figured she’d keep it up for a block our two, and then run out of steam.

A block or two later, we realized she meant to see this thing through.

The playground isn’t that far from the barn, but it isn’t exactly close.

Alden, upon arriving, still had plenty of energy left over for her usual antics.

We played and played, until suddenly we came to a place of rest.

It was a beautiful day. It was so nice to be outside.

After naps, later that evening, we decided to build the ginger bread house given to us by our good friend Dora.

First we built the house.

In case you didn’t know: frosting makes outstanding icing.

Once the house was built (and left to dry for 15 excruciating minutes), I added frosting flourishes while the kids added candy.

For a little house, it sure did hold a lot of candy.

I tried to be as careful as I could with the icing, but occasionally, I slipped and got some where it wasn’t supposed to be.

Kato didn’t seem to mind.

For a trio of gingerbread house amateurs, I think we did an ok job. And now will come the fun of eating it.

While the big kids and I worked on the house, August sat around grinning. It’s what he does. The kid is all cheer. Until he gets tired.

At which point, he’s all snores.

Friday morning, our actual Thanksgiving, was foggy.

We didn’t let it slow us down. We had a full day of cooking ahead.

We chopped, stuffed, sauteed, boiled, and baked all morning. Mid-afternoon, Robbi and I took Kato on a bike ride on the rails trail.

And back through the Washington College campus.

And over the wooden bridge between the College and the playing fields.

Not long after we got back, our friend Don arrived with strange vegetables in tow. I will hand out five bonus points to the first person to correctly identify this dazzling specimen. (Don, you are ineligible).

One by one, the various dishes emerged from the oven.

We put on quite a spread. I was vaguely impressed that we were able to muster such culinary credibility. Note the hand-cut edges of Robbi’s orange cups (filled with cranberry orange relish, of course).

There was stuffing and mashed potatoes and creamed turnips and roasted vegetables and baked apples/sweet potatoes and green bean casserole and duck bacon over cabbage (thank you, Don) and spinach salad (thank you, Ann) and wild rice with grapes and raisins (thank you, Meredith) and pumpkin cornbread (thank you, Al Franken) and turkey, of course.

Al Franken was not in attendance, but we did use his pumpkin cornbread recipe.

In addition to the various adult humans who attended our belated Thanksgiving, Alden invited a slew of her friends. Fortunately, none of them seemed interested in the real food and instead ate imaginary cupcakes.

August was not to be satisfied with the imaginary cupcakes and skulked around eating anything he could get his hands on.

Apparently, this scavenging was exhausting. When we didn’t hear from him for a while, we went on the search and found him passed out under the red chair, where we let him rest until the end of the feast.

When we went to fetch him, we found that he and the chair had taken their relationship to a whole new level.

I like to think that he was drifting in dreams of Thanksgivings to come, when teeth and elevated social skills will earn him an invitation to the big table and all its magnificent offerings.

The next day, Saturday, was the holiday parade in Chestertown. It was a chilly morning, so we got bundled. I’ve always been a sucker for a kid in a hood.

The parade was teeming with visiting luminaries.

Frosty initially resisted being photographed with Robbi, but she eventually wore him down. I’m well familiar with Robbi’s persistence.

Say what you want about my small town home, but Chestertown really knows how to put on a parade.

It was a good weekend. A long weekend. A restful weekend. And an exhausting one (thank you, cat tower).

In case you are wondering, our children do have beds. It’s just that they seldom use them.