The bird was ready.
Amanda was making mashed potatoes and pumpkin pies. I had deviled eggs and stuffing. We still needed cranberries, yams, bread, appetizers, and apparently materials for head-dresses.
I had no idea what that last part required.
It sounded fun.
Thanksgiving was happening at the Williamsburg loft. I sent everybody the food list and asked what we needed from the store. We had bought board games. I advised flexible clothing.
The morning plan was equally specific and slightly ridiculous. A couple of us would ride bikes before dinner. Other people were doing cardio. I would get home, put the turkey in, and aim for a large meal early in the afternoon.
The turkey had been brined. I was excited.
This was the apartment becoming what I wanted it to be. Less than a year earlier I had slept on the floor while waiting for the bed. Now the open room had enough people, food, and competing plans to host Thanksgiving.
Amanda and I divided the cooking without making it formal. She handled some of the food everybody actually wanted. I handled the bird, eggs, stuffing, grocery coordination, and the unnecessary costume idea.
Work was busy. Ironman Cozumel was four days away. I was about to ask my body for its longest day ever.
First, Thanksgiving.
Ride in the morning. Eat when the turkey was done. Play games. Wear pants that could handle the plan.
I ended the email the same way I felt about it.
I could not wait to see everybody.