At their best, holidays are time out of time. They are when we take the opportunity to focus not on the things that need to be done at work or school and not on the flotsam and jetsam involved in going to the cleaners or filling out forms for dance class but on each other. They are times of shared work and play. They are their own magical moments, full of generosity and intimacy. Yesterday�s Thanksgiving was just such a day.

The holiday really started on Wednesday when the girls pitched in with clean-up without even a groan. Day-Hay graciously gave up her bed and room so that her uncle could have a decent bed and she went and bunked in with Kat without ever saying, �Why do I have to give up my room?� Kat cleaned the bathroom without asking me so many questions about how to do it that it would have been easier to do it myself. Day-Hay even wrote my Thanksgiving entry for me.

The shared work continued on Thanksgiving Day. My brother helped me prepare and dress the turkey. (I had done a lot of the side dishes in advance.) I usually don�t care for cooking but, in the right mood, convivial cooking is fun. Mr. Philately did most of the dishes and clean-up. The kids did the things they were asked to do without any grumbling. And we used the good dishes, cloth napkins, and the good goblets. I love my good dishes, cloth napkins, and good goblets but only because they stay special by being used for good. Those dishes and napkins represent love. They were wedding presents from people now gone whom I loved and who loved me.

The holiday also was filled with play. It started when Wednesday�s entry gave my children the idea that we all should play charades. You haven�t really lived until you�ve seen Kat try to deal with �Yertle the Turtle� or Day-Hay do her imitation of a baby being born so she can get us to say �Born Free� or my brother try to get me to say Cher as the first syllable sound-alike in �Charlotte�s Web.�

On Thursday, we all slept in. I usually believe in people dressing fairly quickly upon awakening but for once I was smart enough to realize that it didn�t matter. There is something about lounging in pajamas that says, �I don�t have to rush around today.� I listened to it.

Kat wandered around the house chatting and trying to twirl the cardboard tube from wrapping paper. She�s trying out for �Grease� in two weeks and hopes to get the part of the perennially perky cheerleader and baton twirler, Patty Simcox. She tried to teach Day-Hay what she was doing and didn�t lose it when Day-Hay accidentally ruined her baton. What on any other day would have been an outrage was a mere minor annoyance that made no dent on a good mood.

Then there was the blocks. We have a set of 24 large cardboard blocks that I bought when Kat was a year old. They have been the best toy purchase I ever made. They have been well-loved and well-used. They still see some usage but they see less and less as the kids grow. But their uncle loves blocks and building toys of any sort. So out came the blocks.

Day-Hay and Kat learned about building principles for which they never had time (and sophistication) before. They learned about cantivilered arches. They learned about flying buttresses. They took up the challenge of building structures that rested on two blocks in such a way that the two bottom blocks could be removed and the structure would still stand.

The evening ended with Trivial Pursuits. My children had never played Trivial Pursuits before but my brother and I figured that they were ready as long as we played in teams. So Kat and I took on Day-Hay and my brother while Mr. Philately looked on. I discovered that my brain does not retrieve trivia as well as it used to but the jury is still out on whether that is a good thing or a bad thing. It was bad enough that Kat and I lost�but not by much.

Unfortunately, today seems determined to prove my point that holidays at their best are time out of time. This entry is being posted late because I intended to get up, follow Mr. Philately to take his car in for maintenance, and then come back and post. What actually happened is that I followed Mr. Philately down, we took that car in, and then the van broke down. We took the van to the shop, walked home, got ready for the funeral of a friend�s mother, and then borrowed a car to go to the funeral.

I love holidays. I love time out of time.

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