We filled the car with alcohol, meats, and cheeses. After spending months in the house, we were looking forward to some new scenery. There would be snow, a sauna, and eating (also meat sweats). Nothing would be accomplished.
We arrived in Breckenridge around 4pm the day before Thanksgiving. There was more snow than anticipated. To Murph, this place was Disneyland. No leash, countless new scents, and the most snow he had seen since leaving Oregon. Breckenridge is a small ski town about 90 minutes west of Denver. It's one of our favorite places – close enough but still feels like you are way up in the mountains. For the record, we aren't really into skiing or snowboarding. We're more beach people. The idea of being way high up in altitude and cold is not appealing. We have never really understood it. Nothing is easy about getting to the mountains or the sports that happen in/on/around them. There is always an insane amount of traffic. The roads are icy. The sports require a ton of equipment to haul around. Everything is wet. It's all just a lot. But, there is something to be said for the crisp air and beautiful views.
The whole weekend went by fast and slow at the same time. We spent a lot of time outside hiking around with Murph. We (me) always enjoy the opportunity to look outdoorsy. I've always had a deep appreciation of the lifestyle and heritage associated with some of the great American outdoor brands. 
Steph started preparing the turkey as soon as we arrived. I learned a new term, spatchcock. A method of preparing the bird where you split it open, remove the spine so that it is cooked flat. The method can be used for all types of poultry. Talk to Steph is you want to know more about this.
Steph found the cabin on Airbnb and was immediately drawn to it because of the sauna. The woman loves steam. She booked this place months ago. The sauna would be the main event of the holiday weekend. Eating and sweating. It was to be a vibe. The sauna certainly looked the part. It was built in Finland. Had all these crazy instructions. Knobs and shit everywhere. It all felt so right. So European. And also it didn't work. At all. We spent our Thanksgiving morning fiddle fucking with that sauna, praying for steam as we shivered in towels and puffer jackets. Cold and defeated, we showered and headed into town.
Thanksgiving was nice and quiet. We spent the day switching off between old fashions and wine. We had to pace ourselves because there was a lot of Facetiming to do.
Steph's Thanksgiving presentation can only be described as Ina Gartenesque. It goes without saying that every detail was considered. *I should note that Steph has disallowed any additional posts of the spread due to the poor lighting we endured throughout our stay. The sub-par lighting compromised my ability to effectively capture the real ambiance and craftsmanship of Steph's truly artisanal production. The lighting issue will certainly be reflected in what can only be described as a "constructive" Airbnb review that I am loading up. I'm not even going to get into the rest of the cabin's decor. Let's just say the homeowner had an affinity for cougar wall art.
Do I hunt, fish, or camp? Not at all. I'm an avid indoorsman! But I'll be damned if I'm not bringing my Danner Boots and LL Bean Norwegian sweater to a cabin in the woods. This is the lifestyle that an advanced series of algorithms have been feeding me my whole adult life (or at least since Tumblr was a thing). This is happiness. This is what it means to live a life of style! Honey, grab the Filson bags, we're going to a real-life cabin!