It’s the cheater’s way out, but here you are: the Rhode Island Proclamation of Thanksgiving celebrated at the end of the Seven Year’s or French & Indian War, in August, 1763.
And the transcription, in case the long form ‘s’ gives you trouble. You’ll note that Hopkins does “strictly forbid and prohibit all servile Labor, and All Sports and Pastimes to be used or practiced on said Day,” so that lets some of us out of football games, if not the servile labor of cooking a meal.
We’re not ones for shopping (truly, my heart sank when the Young Mr reported the urgent need of long-sleeved shirts, as this is the time of year when I frequent only the victualers), so this weekend will find us tidying up the house and arranging our gear.
We’re thankful for all the usual things, like jobs and family and friends, and for all the places we’ve been and have yet to go. May you have much to be thankful for, too. The regularly scheduled festivities will return tomorrow or the next day, depending on the progress we make on the house cleaning and on a bottle of sherry.