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put some meat on the barbie!
WHO: Anyone neutral or good!
WHAT: Dominic Munroe demands merriment and good food to celebrate some birthdays.
WHEN: Sunday, June 12th, during the day.
WHERE: Haven, the rundown old church in Westminster.
For all that their home is known as a sanctuary, Haven runs the risk of becoming too austere and monk-like at times. Its quiet risks being too quiet and sacred; its innate churchness sometimes seems inextricable and inescapable.
But today is a day for celebration and socialisation, in whatever form they can make it. Voices are raised in laughter, cracking what normally stands as silence around a sacrosanct churchyard. The makings of a summer party have been installed in Haven's overgrown garden; it was evidently well-tended in the past, but the plantlife has now grown shoddy, trailing rampant over its boundaries. A beaten, slightly-rusty barbeque grill has taken up residence at the corner of the garden -- the grill's seen better days, but by the beaming expression of the man tending it (bright-red 'KISS THE CHEF' apron and all), it seems to be doing its job well enough. The sound and smell of sizzling meat fills the air, and food has been laid out on a long wooden table. Chairs are scattered throughout the flattened grass. The organisation is a little makeshift and a little second-hand -- but that's only fitting for the venue, isn't it?
[Feel free to tag in below and start your own sub-threads with each other!]
WHAT: Dominic Munroe demands merriment and good food to celebrate some birthdays.
WHEN: Sunday, June 12th, during the day.
WHERE: Haven, the rundown old church in Westminster.
For all that their home is known as a sanctuary, Haven runs the risk of becoming too austere and monk-like at times. Its quiet risks being too quiet and sacred; its innate churchness sometimes seems inextricable and inescapable.
But today is a day for celebration and socialisation, in whatever form they can make it. Voices are raised in laughter, cracking what normally stands as silence around a sacrosanct churchyard. The makings of a summer party have been installed in Haven's overgrown garden; it was evidently well-tended in the past, but the plantlife has now grown shoddy, trailing rampant over its boundaries. A beaten, slightly-rusty barbeque grill has taken up residence at the corner of the garden -- the grill's seen better days, but by the beaming expression of the man tending it (bright-red 'KISS THE CHEF' apron and all), it seems to be doing its job well enough. The sound and smell of sizzling meat fills the air, and food has been laid out on a long wooden table. Chairs are scattered throughout the flattened grass. The organisation is a little makeshift and a little second-hand -- but that's only fitting for the venue, isn't it?
[Feel free to tag in below and start your own sub-threads with each other!]