Thanksgiving Day.
Started early for me. The dogs think every morning starts shortly before 7 am, so that's when I started. I did convince them to nap with me after their potty, which helped.
Then preparations begain. The turkey was made ready the night before. This morning, for me at least, the potatoes, carrots, and other vegetables. But before that, a mound of dishes from the pie-making the previous evening. Lots of scrubbing. But before that, emptying the dish drainer to receive newly-washed dishes.
Turkey in at 11 am. Pots of potatoes and carrots put in the fridge where the turkey had been.
No napping. A lot of diet Pepsi, but I know it won't last.
Guests come at about 3:30. Dinner and games until about 7:30. The guests leave because, like us, they are also middle-aged and also subscribe to the Ed Wynn Adage on Middle-Age: A middle-aged person is one who'd rather not have a good time than try to get over one. Food is tucked into the fridge. The younger ones have more energy and use it for things. But the older people, they find somewhere to bloat and rest and sleep with the dogs, who also started their day at 7 am and need a break because there were Strangers in the house and they needed first to be barked at and second to be begged from.
We're all exhausted.
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