Covent Garden Flowers, Saturday

[1000yearstoolate]

Seivarden's jaw still ached. It turned out this place didn't even have basic correctives.

Still, there were no slugs around today, and hopefully no crazy people, and she was content to just make some tea and settle down behind the counter.

She could even deal with the plants singing some kind of choral music.

[Open!]

Dite's Decadent Delights, Saturday

[spin_kick_snap]

There were a lot of people in the house today. Or, well, it felt like a lot. And even though she wanted them all there, had encouraged Dante to invite them so they'd have a full house for Christmas, it still felt like there were a lot of people in the house. And, well, Isabela and Ada were Dante and Anders' friends, not hers. They'd all been friendly, at least before she'd run off and gotten herself killed, but never really friends.

So before lunch, Kathy had snagged her guitar, murmured some excuse about checking on the shop, and fled to 'Dite's where she could at least pretend to be doing something useful. So she'd spent about an hour or so tidying things that didn't need tidying and checking inventory that didn't need checking, before giving in and pulling out her guitar to practice that instead. White Wine in the Sun had been written for a piano, but there were enough guitar covers out there that she'd been able to learn that instead.

"I really like Christmas
It's sentimental, I know, but I just really like it
I am hardly religious
I'd rather break bread with Dawkins than Desmond Tutu
To be honest..."

She just needed to be able to get through the chorus around the lump in her throat. Hadn't happened yet, but that was what practice was for, right?

"I'll be seeing my dad
My brother and sisters, my gran and my mum
They'll be drinking white wine in the sun..."

[No OCD]

Luke's Diner, Saturday

[what_the_shock]

"You know you really don't have to - no, look, watch that - don't!"

The cook had made a figgy pudding. And then attempted to flambé it. With what alcohol was left after he'd been at it for a few hours.

Miguel would have to apologize to Eliot for a few scorched towels.

Fortunately, the dishwasher's eyebrows would grow back.

"No more flames!" Miguel was putting his foot down.

Today's Specials:
Roasted goose
Sweet potato tamales
Fig pudding not flambé

Luke's was open.