Hi! Afternoon from Fairfax in the Old Dominion of Virginia! It’s Deirdre here. I wanted to check in after the Production people got done complaining about the Chapter One and Chapter Two continuity problem.

That dragged us back to why we are currently in Fairfax, and how this flexible living arrangement seems to suit people who marry, deploy, move a couple of times between states, ships and continents, and occasionally discover they need someplace to land.

I appreciate the chance to unwind a little and get things organized.

The Creative Section at Socotra House is made up of an eclectic crowd, generally divisible into generational groups. There are some Old Salts who spent much of the last half-century either in uniform or providing support to the people still wearing one. Then there are some Zoomers servicing the various wheels of government activity on both sides of the river that divides our town.

It was a daunting sight the first time I looked out that big Conference Room window, down by where Miles sits and waves us in various directions.

The Galley hatch didn’t look nearly so welcoming when I first saw it.

Chairman Willie had lost the lease on the old complex in Arlington. I had a place down there myself when I had the chance to do some promotional work for Willow, the fine-dining establishment on Fairfax Drive.

Then things changed.

The Chairman realized the Summer of Celebrations was coming, and the Socotra enterprise needed some elbow room to churn out the Daily dross along with the book projects. Fairfax, out toward Dulles, provided some room to think.

I was impressed by Chairman Willie’s vision when I first saw the Trillium building, with those big arches at the top that make the whole thing look a little like one of those brown paper shopping bags with handles.

Willie has a suite up there with a better view.

We have the Conference Room, the Cube Farm we use for casual living and temporary lodging—and what was then a little utility room with a sink and a counter.

I was also at the beginning of something with Rocket that both of us liked.

We have three marriages between us, along with old friendships with Holly, Vic and Splash accumulated through three careers, five squadrons and two Navy Air Wings on the East and West Coasts.

We are comfortable with what we have going now.

And we keep it below the threshold of interest.

What interested me more immediately was the challenge Willie and Miles offered.

Could we turn that little maintenance space off the Conference Room into a food-service area where we could make coffee and snacks—and perhaps something more substantial—to support round-the-clock operations if there was a real possibility that the Gates of Hell were going to open someplace of interest?

Like here.

So I agreed to provide a general plan and a request for some modest and justifiable equipment for what I decided to call The Galley, on the 4th Floor of the Shopping Bag Building.

This is what I am working with now:

I am pleased to report that I was able to get Finance to approve it.

Two countertop cook plates. Two eight-quart slow cookers. An eight-quart air fryer with a basket big enough to do some actual work. Two soup kettles. The Lodge frypan. Stainless cooking tools. The Matuga knives lined up beside the spices. A microwave.

And that boss little convection oven tucked into the lower rack of the rolling stainless cart.

The cart turned out to be important. It rolls where we need it, carries trays of fritters when Production suddenly discovers everyone is hungry, and gives a very small room some surprisingly large possibilities.

But time is short now, and The Boys will soon become anxious to get to Happy Hour.

More tomorrow on what is in the Galley—and why.

That, I suspect, is where Chapter Two really begins.

Copyright 2026 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com