Samantha Patchowski (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
10_20_15_5_50) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kismet_loop_logs2015-09-13 07:37 pm
10_20_15_5_50) wrote in kismet_loop_logs2015-09-13 07:37 pm
Thanksgiving (Canada)
Who: Hiro, Sam, and YOU!
What: Approximated Thanksgiving!
Where: Samada digs in the Hub.
When: Forty minutes after this yes it’s backdated as all hell
Warnings: None!
Arranging everything had been a matter of making do, and it showed in most everything---the plates, the glasses, the chairs around the table (with two exceptions)---being mismatched, but Sam felt the arrangements were a solid ‘satisfactory’. One side of the sink was piled high with everything she and Hiro had dirtied in making the dinner, but the kitchenette’s counters had been cleared for the food; the table was ready, with the coffee table and couch for any overflow; and everybody who had expressed interest in coming over had directions to the door, though they’d probably catch The Trews halfway down the hall. The apartment itself? Not satisfactory, but more than. She hadn’t done much to the main space after moving in, having liked what she found from the first; the floor, walls, and ceiling were covered with what looked like sheet copper. With darkly-varnished branches latticed across the walls (nails on a few supporting botanical prints, as well as one fancily-framed contract) and a couple rag rugs, the orange wasn’t overwhelming. The tin foil turkeys Hiro had constructed were... conspicuous, but not entirely unwelcome.
Food? Check.
Seating and settings? Check.
Place presentable? Check.
They were as ready as they were going to get, if they were going to get guests.
What: Approximated Thanksgiving!
Where: Samada digs in the Hub.
When: Forty minutes after this yes it’s backdated as all hell
Warnings: None!
Arranging everything had been a matter of making do, and it showed in most everything---the plates, the glasses, the chairs around the table (with two exceptions)---being mismatched, but Sam felt the arrangements were a solid ‘satisfactory’. One side of the sink was piled high with everything she and Hiro had dirtied in making the dinner, but the kitchenette’s counters had been cleared for the food; the table was ready, with the coffee table and couch for any overflow; and everybody who had expressed interest in coming over had directions to the door, though they’d probably catch The Trews halfway down the hall. The apartment itself? Not satisfactory, but more than. She hadn’t done much to the main space after moving in, having liked what she found from the first; the floor, walls, and ceiling were covered with what looked like sheet copper. With darkly-varnished branches latticed across the walls (nails on a few supporting botanical prints, as well as one fancily-framed contract) and a couple rag rugs, the orange wasn’t overwhelming. The tin foil turkeys Hiro had constructed were... conspicuous, but not entirely unwelcome.
Food? Check.
Seating and settings? Check.
Place presentable? Check.
They were as ready as they were going to get, if they were going to get guests.
no subject