Thanksgiving Day, 1985. For our first Thanksgiving in our new home in Incline Village, Nevada, Bill and I invited Bill’s ski cabin group, San Francisco friends who had been sharing a ski lease at Lake Tahoe for thirteen winters since 1972. Bill and I woke up on Thanksgiving morning to three feet of fresh snow on the ground. Throughout the day, it continued to snow heavily and Highway 80 was closed on and off. The telephone started to ring and one by one our guests from the Bay Area cancelled. This left Bill and me with more food than we could ever eat. Bill called the local church and offered to deliver, but they turned us down politely saying something about sanitation laws (we believed them). I don’t remember what we did with the food. I do remember spending a cozy day at home during a greeting card-like snowfall.