Eric Bittle (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
puckandpie) wrote2016-07-28 12:12 pm
puckandpie) wrote2016-07-28 12:12 pm
[8/3] happy birthday, jack!
There isn't any way on earth I'll be able to top the dinner date on the beach Jack gave me for my birthday a couple months ago, but seeing as it's still summer and still wonderfully hot out, I've decided a picnic is the right idea.
As little use as there is in being secretive, I still sent him sort of a vague text a couple hours ago, asking him to meet me under a tree with by the pond in the park and to bring Macha and Shannon. There are a lot of trees, of course, and I don't expect him to find me right away, but I'm hoping it won't take him too long. Besides, I've made it sort of obvious which one I mean with the red-and-white checkered blanket I've laid out and the few little streamers and balloons I have hanging from the branches.
The meal is entirely prepared by hand with a number of little finger sandwiches and a fruit salad. I tossed in some poutine even though I'm not at all confident in my ability to make anything at all as good as he's used to, along with several nanaimo bars. I even found a recipe for dog cookies and have made a half dozen decorated like the Canadian flag for the pups to share.
And, of course, a fresh maple sugar crusted apple pie.
Instead of murdering said pie with twenty-six different candles, I bought a number two and a number six, but they're both hidden away for until after the main dish.
I'd spent more time wrapping his present than strictly necessary, but it at least looks nice sitting under the tree with a large red bow. I hand drew a number of little maple leaves and hockey sticks all over the wrapping and I'm still busy making sure the plates and cutlery and cups of fresh lemonade are all set out nicely when I notice a familiar crop of dark hair heading up the path. Macha and Shannon are pulling him along, their tails wagging excitedly and I scramble to my feet to greet them, smiling wide.
"There he is," I say when he's close enough to hear me. "Didn't have too much trouble finding me, did you?"
As little use as there is in being secretive, I still sent him sort of a vague text a couple hours ago, asking him to meet me under a tree with by the pond in the park and to bring Macha and Shannon. There are a lot of trees, of course, and I don't expect him to find me right away, but I'm hoping it won't take him too long. Besides, I've made it sort of obvious which one I mean with the red-and-white checkered blanket I've laid out and the few little streamers and balloons I have hanging from the branches.
The meal is entirely prepared by hand with a number of little finger sandwiches and a fruit salad. I tossed in some poutine even though I'm not at all confident in my ability to make anything at all as good as he's used to, along with several nanaimo bars. I even found a recipe for dog cookies and have made a half dozen decorated like the Canadian flag for the pups to share.
And, of course, a fresh maple sugar crusted apple pie.
Instead of murdering said pie with twenty-six different candles, I bought a number two and a number six, but they're both hidden away for until after the main dish.
I'd spent more time wrapping his present than strictly necessary, but it at least looks nice sitting under the tree with a large red bow. I hand drew a number of little maple leaves and hockey sticks all over the wrapping and I'm still busy making sure the plates and cutlery and cups of fresh lemonade are all set out nicely when I notice a familiar crop of dark hair heading up the path. Macha and Shannon are pulling him along, their tails wagging excitedly and I scramble to my feet to greet them, smiling wide.
"There he is," I say when he's close enough to hear me. "Didn't have too much trouble finding me, did you?"
no subject
"No, I like it here," I assure him honestly. Bittle went to all this trouble to set this up for me, and I want to enjoy it. I give the dogs another set of treats to distract them and then move closer to Bittle, watching him fondly before reaching for my plate of poutine again. It's cooled off a little by now, fries gone a bit soggy, but it's still delicious. "What other amazing Canadian delicacies await me, eh?"
no subject
"Oh, I made nanaimo bars!" I tell him, grinning as I reach into the basket to pull out another container, popping open the lid and holding them out to him. "There are a ton of recipes for these so I just picked out the one I liked best. You can tell me what I need to do to tweak them to what you like."