Thanksgiving was a quiet affair this year. Jami's mom was off to Wisconsin to a Covid superpreader event (I wish I was joking) but Thomas graciously consented to being ferried home and back from Ann Arbor on the day (last Thursday, the 26th), if only to eat mashed potatoes, absent-mindedly stroke Martha and chase Sylvester around.
It was nice. Jami experimented with making an apple crumble in the Instant Pot and it was strangely successful. I rather hoped that he would stay the night but by the time Frederick and I came back from our post-prandial walk, Jami was halfway to Ann Arbor with him - he had a gaming date set up, and had been separated from his computer for uncomfortably long.
Normally this is a good break from teaching, just as enthusiasm for the semester is hitting a low ebb, but this year I hardly feel like I'm teaching, as all I do is wait for papers to roll in in response to materials and lectures I've prepared long before. I did use the time to put what I hope are the finishing touches on an anthology about Philosophy of Love (seemed like a good idea at the time I sent out the prospectus, but I discovered that, as with many things, what philosophers are saying about love these days seems rather beside the point). Look for it in your local bookstore some time in 2021, with this cover, if I get my way (it's a bit corny but I was given VERY few options, and had to push not to use an incredibly ugly generic cover)
What else? Oh yes, Emily had a birthday for which Frederick (with a bit of help from Jami) made a ceramic ornament of a smiling sun and got to go to a socially-distanced gathering yesterday in their backyard. Here he is waiting to deliver it:
And here are card and present on display (with Ava in the foreground)
And here's a closer look:
Good thing it happened yesterday, because this was today:
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