My immediate family's tradition is a brunch at my parents' house before spending the rest of Thanksgiving at my grandma's house, about 90 minutes westward. Get this: when we left my parents' house, it was about 55 degrees and beyond pleasant. (My 5K race that morning was done in shorts!) We drove straight into a crazy front, and by the time we got to my grandma's house around 1:30, the temperatures was in the 30s.
A relatively new tradition on my mom's side of the family involves threading long strands of popcorn, oranges and cranberries to string on my grandma's beloved birdfeeding station outside her kitchen window. I was in Colorado last year and missed it, so I was happy to join the crowd around the table working on the strands.
When it was time to arrange the little bird treats/holiday decorations outside, the snow arrived: big, fat, fluffy flakes. It was really beautiful. My mom and cousin got to work on a snowman.
Meanwhile, I was captivated by how pretty the popcorn and cranberry strands looked hanging against the snowy bushes!
The snow stuck around through the evening - and overnight, it turned out - and so did the snowman, although he began to tip! (He looked not unlike how I felt after my gigantic Thanksgiving dinner.)
And then I got to go home and finish the day by playing with Wish in the snow. It was a very happy Thanksgiving.