Take it Outside

I and my two younger kids always have a picnic in the park on Labor Day as we've made it our tradition. The one that we know will always stick out in our minds happened three years ago: We'd been looking forward to going out and had done all the shopping beforehand, but when we woke up that day it was quite chilly and windy. We decided not to let a little 40mph breeze spoil our fun so we went anyway. We packed everything up, went to the little park a few miles away, made and ate our sandwiches in the wind and played afterward on the swings and merry-go-round. Passing motorists did a double-take at this crazy family and we just smiled and waved at them. After a bit, we decided we'd had enough and went home to warm ourselves with some cocoa. Now each time we go on any sort of picnic one of us invariably starts to say, "Do you remember that time..." and we get a chuckle out of it again.

I  like  midweek  picnics  in  the  city's  vest  pocket  parks.    It  gets  me  out  of  the  office  {mental  health  break!},   it  gives  me  some  walking  {exercise  is  important  with  a  sedentary  job},   and  it  allows  me  to  avoid  the  cholesterol  and  calories  so  abundant  in  fast  food  alternatives.     Then  there's  another  plus,   in  that  the  city  has  scheduled  musicians  to  do  their  thing.   The  music  in  turn  brings  out  lots  of  people,  some  of  whom  I've  not  seen  for  ages.    You  could  say  that  the  live  music  brings  out  people  like  sweets  bring  out  ants  at  a  picnic!

As mentioned before:  relative to laying on the floor, sitting on the ground and eating would present a problem in getting up and about again -- you know, that call to 911 and a crane to help her up.  :)  Gravity takes care of getting down. 
 
Any time my husband and I see people eating outside, we wonder why.  If it's hot, it's more comfortable inside, if it's cold, same thing. Inside has less insects and dirt as well as packing and unpacking, debris control is inside. 
 
I know, I know , I'm missing the point....maybe -- but my wine and cheese just seem better inside unless "outside" means on my porch, screened in, on my rocking chair.

Having lived most of my life in tropical Singapore, having a picnic in your traditional sense is not exactly a "cool" (pardon the pun) thing to do. And I can empathise with Andy over all those creepy crawlies! Younger days did include playing truant to skip down to the beach with friends though, everyone bringing something to add to the "pot luck" . Now that I'm living in Tasmania, as "ends of the earth" as possible, picnic is hard to "warm" up to too. But I love your music-in-the-city scene Bert. I work in the city too and we have buskers during summer and its just lovely. Been encouraging my son to do that with his strings quartet so that he can earn some extra pocket money but it hasnt happened yet - maybe this summer! Having live classical music wafting through the city mall is always such a treat

Spring Fragrance - thank you for posting such wonderful pictures of Tasmania.  That rugged coastline is breathtaking.  

It was such a fine fall afternoon that Aunt Dale and I decided to have a little party on the front porch.

A wine and nuts party.

So we collected a couple of wine glasses and a bottle of wine and some packages of nuts and got MiLady the Cat and settled down on the front porch.

Aunt Dale in the porch swing and Uncle Rog in the rocking chair.

We sipped and we crunched.

And we sipped and we crunched.

Chatting about nothing in particular.

Watching MiLady the Cat romp, chasing a squirrel here, racing up the trunk of a tree there.

And then I noticed something a little out of the ordinary for a Sunday afternoon.

A man and a woman were up on the roof on a house across the street.

A child, maybe three or four, was up there with them.

The couple has been putting a new roof on the house in recent days.

So, this being a fine autumn day, they were up there again, steadily using their air hammer to put down the roof.

Pssshhh, pssshhh, pssshhh, went the air hammer.

The child entertained himself.

We sipped and we crunched.

We sipped and we crunched.

That's when something a little out of the ordinary caught my eye.

The pssshhh, pssshhh, pssshhhing had stopped.

All was quiet again.

Then I said, "Lookit, Aunt Dale, they're setting up for a picnic."

Up on the rooftop.

From containers, the woman pulled out food item after food item, carefully placing the food on what looked like towels on the roof.

They sat down on the roof, the three of them.

The child seemed filled with laughter.

Surely smiles filled the faces of all three.

Happily, they ate and they drank.

And they ate and they drank.

We sipped and we crunched.

We sipped and we crunched.

After a while, the couple went back to roofing.

And the child went back to entertaining himself.

We've picnicked by mountain streams, in parks large and small both here and across the pond, outside centuries-old castles and churches, out of the trunk of the car, elsewhere. We've seen picnic food eaten with plastic ware and with fine silver service.

But on a rooftop?

Maybe the couple and the child were on to something.

Maybe once in a while, in a special moment of whimsy, we need to take a peek at life from a little different vantage point.

So, maybe the next time we decide on a little impromptu wine party on a fine fall afternoon, we'll get out the ladder, head up to the roof, sip a little wine and see how the world looks from there.

Because, from our place on the front porch, watching the three of them enjoying themselves at their rooftop picnic, it had the look of one of those tranquil, cherished moments from which fond, lasting memories are made.

My boyhood mountain of discovery, Walden Ridge, had me packing up PB & J's and Little Debbie Oatmeal Cakes with a thermos of grape Kool-Aid in my elegant picnic basket, a brown grocery store bag; then trekking to the House Rock and climbing to the top for a full view of my little town. I had a transistor radio and listened to the AM station play my favs. I remember the perfect sunny days of course but there was also something special about sitting in the rain on top of a rock that was millions of years old. When my buds came along, we told big old lies and hit each other on the arm or threw apple cores to see who was the toughest and the quickest. Today I find picnics end with me looking up at the clouds in search of exotic animals. Cheap Thrills.  

The perfect picnic is a memory forever. But I've had more disasters... I have given up entirely on taking food to the beach. No matter how well packed it is, no matter how carefully I set up the umbrella against the wind, as soon as I open the food and/or drink, it had sand in it. And I have zero tolerance for sand in my food.

Our beach has a wonderful snack bar up by the showers, burgers grilled over charcoal, yummy wraps made to order. We eat them outdoors, but UP on the picnic tables nearby.

Now, up on the roof... that could work!

"when the child was a child ...
go for the ball which today rolls between it's legs
with it's, i'm here, it came
into the house which now is empty"
 
under the grape arbor with the shade
now the sun
toy soldiers and horse chestnuts
and marbles lost forever now
buried under the years
 
 
"when the child was a child
 it hurled a stick like a lance into a tree,
and it's still quivering there today
 
the child, the child, was a child"
 

I haven't been on a traditional picnic since the late 70s. I used to love them; I don't know why they stopped being a feature in my life. While we had a boat, we used to take a small picnic out on a calm day, shut the engine down and float - so I guess that counts too. We lost the boat to a falling tree a couple of years ago so that was that. We have beautiful state parks in the Florida Keys (no oil - come on down!) but now that I'm 60, I prefer to watch the sea or the sunset from the outside tables at any number of great restaurants that line the shores on the Florida Bay side or Atlantic cean side.

Picnics have been a cherished part of our relationship vernacular since our family’s inception. Romance was the major theme in the beginning, as well as daring, a flavor-enhancing ingredient. A very memorable picnic involved pate, brötchen, fruit, a bottle of very good Piesporter Spätlese and a paddleboat in the middle of Lake Cheimsee (Still hoping no stray photos by someone with a telephoto lens surface from that particular one.).

Season and location really have no bearing on their frequency. Some of the best have been the least expensive (in the less exotic locations), but picnics by definition lend themselves to as much variety as the elements from which they are comprised. That attribute is one of our most cherished aspects about them.

An impromptu picnic with 2 young children in a tent made of a broom handle, a sheet, and a sofa arm, serving up cheese and crackers and a flashlight reading of Kipling (during a very violent Texas thunderstorm) is a cherished case in point.

Bed picnics are a category unto themselves as they can range in application from enlivening convalescence to elevating other types of fever.

Solitary alfresco meals as mentioned above can be restorative of much our hearts and brains need in a frenetic world. A chunk of bread, water and a favorite book is enough to qualify by my definition; the food is not necessarily a focal point.

Picnics are one of the few luxuries, which we view as a necessity whether we are “flush” or tightly budgeted, alone or together. They stimulate conversation, whether outwardly verbal, or internally spiritual. Much food for living packed into a small space.

Let's just hope that no one tries to trademark the actual act of picnicing....Hinckley Yachts won trademark rights a few years ago on the term Picnic Boat for their Maine lobster boat-style power boat.  Lots of companies make a similar style of boat and for years they had all been referred to as picnic boats.  My hubby was more than a little disillusioned with Hinckley.

I once worked in a high-stress job in a city.  Sometimes, I just had to escape the building and leave, usually during lunchtime.  On one occasion, I went to a nearby deli and bought a sub sandwich.  Since the day was nice,I went to sit by the water sculpture, a large stone carving, with water cascading up and down, and a pool for wishing in.  While there, some other folks came, bringing with them trashcans, cardboard tubes, small wood chairs, stools, and various other office furniture.  Curious, I decided to stick around, always up for a piece of street theater.  One person began a heart-beat rhythm on the bottom of a small plastic trash can--a synchopated "thump-THUMP."  Shortly, another joined in with a counterpoint, followed quickly by the clink of spoons and the clacking of several staplers.  In a very short while, the entire 10 or 12 person group had a  rhythm band going, the bystanders clapping time, and several lesser-inhibited people dancing around the fountain.  A well-stuffed sub sandwich, a sunny day, the splash of water, and the primal beat going on around me from the band refreshed me, relaxed me, and I returned to the office ready to do battle again.  All summer long, we would gather at the fountain, sometimes a tambourine would tinkle an appearance, once a triangle shone brightly through the drums, and one special day, a jazz saxophonist provided melody tothe beat.  It made the tedium of the office MUCH more bearable, and many memorable picnics by the fountain.

Last picnic I went on was on Memorial day with my parents. We went to a little lake near here, had fried chicken, potato salad, and little raspberry cupcakes.

Picnics are seen as more romantic than they are. I envision myself, smartly dressed, relaxing with a chilled glass of champagne, with a sandwich of cold roast duck on fresh bread and a chunk of cheese next to the apple on the side. The reality is lumpy ground, a public alcohol ban, fighting bugs and untrained dogs (from the other picnics who thought it would be fun to bring the dog but got bored with watching him) for food that isn't supposed to be cold but is, and uncomfortably trying to balance a paper plate and use plastic flatware to try to cut through lasagna that had been perfect at 8:00 AM but had since congealed into a rather sturdy building material. Conversation is impossible because someone in one of the houses that surround the park is spending their day tuning their diesel truck which requires much revving and Toby Keith.

Poor Michael...the dreaded "Picnic Remorse"! ;) I hope someone comes along and gives you a more pleasant experience.

Oh, we still managed to have fun. It was a family reunion full of cousins I couldn't remember from one year to the next. Once you hit that level of "twice removed" or "I'm your mom's cousin's aunt's sister-in-law" my brain kind of glazes over. But the kids played in the park, we played pinocle (with the constant argument over cheating, which we all were), and many of the people around my age went to a movie when the grandparents took the little ones home for a nap.

Tig: What a great example of "the unexpected gift" picnic! I could hear, see and taste it as you described it. :)

and now you partially understand the RV lifestyle....pic-a-neek any where...park next to a winery, set up, plug in, cook, and drink the specialty of the land that surrounds, and  not driving impaired,and   sleeping in your own bed    ah, some great memories....

Somewhat  off  topic:    There  is  currently  a  plan  to  connect  the  Greenbrier  Resort  Hotel  in White  Sulfur  Springs,  West  Virginia  to  Keeneland  Thorobred  Association's  Racetrack  in  Lexington,  Kentucky  by  way  of  a  private  luxury  train.    Power  would  be  provided  via  the  last  live  steam  engine  produced  in  the  United  States.    Cars would  be  fully  restored  vintage  luxury  coaches,  plus  a  dining  car,  club  car,  and  parlor  observation  car.   The  theory  that  compelled  the  initial  investors  to  raise  the  required  $15M  was  that  a  symbiosis  would  thereby  be  formed  between  two  classy  upscale  entities,   which  would  be mutually  advantageous.   Think  of   this  as  "the  day  trip  {or mini-vacation}  to  die  for."  Associated Press had  the  story  on  this  morning's  wire  services,   perhaps  someone  would  be  kind  enough  to  secure  &  share  the  link.    Put  "Greenbrier  train"  into your  search  engine, the  story  should  pop  up  {I'm  in  the  field,  away  from  a  computer}.  For  those  of  us  who  love  live  steam  railroading,   an  intimate  racetrack  with  a  "Gone  With  the  Wind"  aura,   or  who  have  had  The  Greenbrier's  grandeur  take  their  breath  away,  this  is  IT.    Anybody  wanting  to  actually  LIVE  the  fantasy  of  having  cocktails  &  live  music  in  a  real club  car  needs  to  saddle  up.   This  is  the  new  #1   event  on  MY  personal  "bucket  list" .....

Michael: we used to have a large family reunion picnic every 5 years or so in an obscure little lake town named Waseca (don't know why, none of us lived there) that sounds similar. People came from all over the U.S. It started very early with one of the aunties staking out a table at 7 a.m. so no one else would get it. As you said, the continuous explaining of extended familial relationships was enough to make any young person catatonic.

For the kids, our high point was after grilling the only hot part of the meal the "mother of all water fights" would break out. It always started with a carefully hidden cache of water balloons, progressed through heavy-duty squirt guns and ended with buckets. When someone in their 70's got hit by an errant bucketful, a halt would be called and the kids would wipe out the dessert table and fall into a sun burnt, sugar-induced lethargy until sunset and the arrival of the mosquito hordes. Everyone would pack up and head home or to their hotels with promises to return for the next one.

All but one of the “planners” of these has passed away now and she is unwell and has moved to a warmer climate. Both my parents are gone as well (much earlier than expected). I’d have never thought that looking at a bowl of what we called “Pepto-Bismol salad (you know, the pink cool whip-type stuff with fruit cocktail, etc in it) could make me sad to think I’d never be “bored” in that way again. Our reunions now tend to be at funerals and weddings. I’m glad my kids got to experience them at an age where they can remember them. Maybe they’ll resurrect the idea. I hope so. I’ll bring the Pepto salad. There must be a recipe online…..

Bert: It sounds fantastic, though I must admit, your linking of "a vacation to die for" and it being on your "bucket list" is very funny. :)

JaxZ,   you  win  the  prize,  frankly  I  didn't  think  anyone  else  was  going  to  pick  up  on  the  pun!

Bert: I was going to tell you to move it from #1 to the last place position but being a lawyer I figured you'd know that..... ;)

After college my (ex)husband and I relocated to Portland from Northern California. We settled into a cool old courtyard apartment building. When warmer days of late spring arrived we set a wicker couch and a grill in the courtyard, and started having dinner on the lawn. Soon another couple, also new to the building set up folding chairs and a TV tray, and joined us...and then the family from across the courtyard...and then the shoe designer next to them...until everybody but the scary computer guy (who only left his apartment once or twice a month, and only after dark), was outside in the courtyard for dinner. As the summer progressed, it evolved from individual meals to a standing pot luck. Over time, tenants changed, but the pot luck continued. I'd like to think it still continues a decade later. The sense of community we had was something I had never experienced before, and not felt since.

"To see a world in a grain of sand    .     And a Heaven in a Wild flower   .    Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand   .     And Eternity in an hour."   .   William Blake

 
The only bad picnic in my life took place not long after two friends and I climbed out on a limb over a scummy semi-industrial canal and the limb broke.

All of us had a nasty rash from the experience mine being the only one limited to the front of the abdomen and above the belt.

It was treated with an ointment and a caution: NO SWIMMING.

Quite the little water rat, nothing could have made me more miserable.

Early on the Saturday of our annual big two family picnic, (our six and the twelve members of our parent's best friend's clan), I announced that if I could not swim, I didn't want to go.

No problem. They just left without me. Took all of the food and beverages and left.

So, from about 6:30 AM until 10:30 PM, I was left alone feeling minimal, miserable and badly done by. I was, I think, eleven.

I took care of lunch and supper by dropping by friends and neighbors at just the right moment but it was a very bad, very long day.

I think that my parents figured that there was a lesson in it. They were right: don't bet when the only chip you have is... you.



 

Picnic?  Predicted high tomorrow: 96 F.  Overnight low: 76.  The mosquitoes are out in force. I watered the parched plants today.  High humidity doesn't necessarily mean rain!.  And I managed to walk (gingerly) between the fire ant mounds and not end up with those guys on my hands or feet.  I vote for moving Picnic Week to November or December, when the temps are in the 70s and the 'cold fronts' sweep out the smog and let in the sun.... Hey, anybody want to come visit us in Houston in July?????  

I wonder if the act of eating outdoors removes worries or inhibitions over convention and allows bonds to form more quickly, in a more relaxed manner?

Damselfly: How appealingly wonderful. That sounds like what we call a "golden time", everything coming together at the right time and place for a period of time (maybe months, maybe a several years) and you and your spouse set it in motion. Sometimes you can recreate it in a new place, but more often than not, it seems more organic than that. Something pertaining to that particular moment in time.

Doc: All our relatives in Houston will be up here in Maine in July..... C'mon up!

eating outside picknic style?  =  eating with fingers    .   and that,friends, is a big part of it  
                          

JaxZ - maybe Waseca was equidistant from most relatives?  My dad once figured out that for our family to have a reunion that was geographically at the center of us all, we'd have to go to Broken Bow, Oklahoma.

Shandonista: You have a point, it was roughly equidistant for the oldest members in a 200 mile or so radius. We younger ones could fare the longer drives much better. Good point!

lotlot - a very nice memory very well written..... than you and welcome

I think I'm missing a gene.... Most of my hiking buddies look forward to setting up their stoves and cooking a hot meal after a day's hiking -- and my brother even bought me a cook book for backpackers.  The recipes are supposed to inspire one to 'fine dining' on the trail.... But even boiling water and cooking up some rice or pasta seems a bit of a waste of time.  I suspect my indifference comes from years of eating sandwiches at 70 mph in my car between appointments  -- washed down with warm Diet Coke from a 2-liter bottle lying on the floor.  A 'treat' is a Power Bar.  And when it's late at night and I 'raid' the kitchen, I go for a bowl of bran flakes and 1/2 percent milk.  As I said, I think I'm missing a gene.....  I have no problem sitting on a lawn eating a sandwich filled with Provolone cheese.  But I could be standing in a train station eating it and it would do just as well.  It's all calories, protein, carbohydrate, fibre (oldsters remember when it was called roughage!), and fat.  Nice to have a view when one is eating on a blanket, and it's a lot less stressful than eating while driving as folks play bumper cars all around you, but it's still just like stopping the car for gasoline.  

Some  of  my  neighbors  have  a  tradition,  they  coordinate  a  date  &  time,  then  head  towards  the  middle  of  the  lake  after  dark.   Then  the  picnic  baskets  open  up,  a  few  champagne  buckets  arise,   and  candles  with  silver  candle  sticks  set  the  stage  for  a  good  time.   Seems  the  mosquito  population  isn't  looking  for  prey  that  far  from  the  shore.   The  best  times  are  when  somebody  brings  ALL  the  potato  salad,  somebody  else  brings  ALL  the  entrees,  and  so  on.....    This  system  works  much   better  if  you  put  a  few  pontoon  or  deck  boats  in  the  center,  so  you  have  a  central  "kitchen"  and  "dining  room,"   perhaps  even  enough  space  to  dance.....

 
Not exactly food porn there DOC but you do sound 'low maintenance.'

Closing down early for Sabbath ... we have about sixty Goyim visiting with us tonite, thinking about joining our Community, and I am cooking the Sabbath Meal for tonite, so I really wanna put on the Dog .......  Of course, I made three Cheesecakes yesterday, just to give the meal  Socko finish !!!
 
I Wish You All a Marvelous Weekend !!!  Be Safe, Be Well, and Let No Untoward Thing Befall Any of You .......
 
To the Tribe; Good Shabbos, and Have Fun !!!!!!!
 
(I'm cooking Chinese for Sunday)
 
 
Blessings,
 
 
IVAN

"the good news is that practically anything qualifies as a picnic these days, as long as it's outside."  I'm sure glad you mentioned that because when I think of picnics nothing really comes to mind.  I don't have any memories of a memorable picnic.  But I sure have a lot of memories being outside, sitting on the ground and eating something.  When I go hiking and it's time for my ‘picnic', I look for a hilltop that has a nice tree to sit under and use my bandana to sit on.  Most often my food consists of buffalo jerky, popcorn, an apple, and water to drink.  The joy of watching the sky, brilliant blue, or covered with clouds, the surrounding land, and whatever might be flying, walking, or crawling by, is priceless to me.  There are times when I try to capture all of the beauty of His creation with my eyes; it is impossible; the beauty is just too deep, too wide; it fills my heart so that I think it will burst. 

The first date my wife went on when we started dating 45 years ago, was a picnic. That summer most of our dates were picnics . With Mt. Rainier Nat. Park about 2 hours away and the Pacific about 3 hours away and plenty of state parks in the vicininty espically the water front parks on Puget Sound and the summer weather generally in the mid to upper 70's the scenery and climate are great for taking a picnic. We had a small portable bbq grill thar we would use when we didn't make something ahead of time. The local wineries here in the Yakima valley have picnic tables for the use of their customers and when you buy a bottle the will open but leave the cork in place(state law) and most will even loan glasses while you enjoy your meal.
Some have ,on weekends.a bbq or other food avaible along with live music and several have terraces with great views. So our picnicing continues but with a little less effort on our part.
A little over 3 years ago when I became the recipient of a somewhat rare neuro/muscular diseasr that affected my ocular system and was causing severe vision problems I wasn't able to get out of the house because of the brightness plus extereme dislopia(double vision) for a bout 3 months until we were able to get it some what under control. Wearing a patch on one eye and 2 pair of sunglasses wI was able to venture out. Our firsr outing was a picnic. The tradition lives on and now that there is a lot more control of this damned disease(there is no cure) we go often to the local wineries to picnic , and not just on weekends and in spite of Drs.orders of no wine, bourbon ,gin etc. Also no chocolate. He is very good Dr. if a little inhumane. I have cut down on chocolate,the wine however is a different story.At my age I don't think the distance to be gained is worth the additional price to be paid so I continue to enjoy a glass of wine or two and an ocassional bit of chocolate. And am going to keep on enjoying picnics
 

lotlot, I'd suggest lemonade or iced tea for any roof top picnic....but maybe I'm just overly cautious.

 
rwh1~
That's the old fighting spirit.




We're Lutherans (the original original sin guys): think Calvinists without all that joie de vivre and our church picnic, held on the grounds of the State Mental Hospital, was a big deal.

There were always highly jocular cautions to the kids not to stray far from the lakeside grounds: "If they get you and you don't get out until you test  sane, we might never see you again." Every year.

Though it was held after services, a bit of an informal message was always delivered to the quiet and orderly re-gathered congregation in what our dad referred to as one more opportunity to pass the plate.

After his official remarks, the Rev. was in the middle of thanking those who had supplied food and drink for the affair one of which was the brewery and while he was shuffling through his notes, I took a chance... a big one.

I stood, excused myself to the pastor and yelled: "Rusty, Rusty Larson, down, get down quick!" Well, this was not long after the war and people knew about getting down.

He was stuffed against his will to the ground at the exact moment two of the men in white coats (white everything for that matter), out on a smoking break, broke from the trees on the footpath.

It was a tense century or so until someone laughed and it turned out to be Albert L. about the sternest of the bunch, then the minister cracked and the place was up for grabs.

For their part, the hospital guys had seen worse and after finishing their smokes and skipping a few stones, they were gone.

"All clear Larson!"

That was more than fifty years ago and people are still embarrassed to laugh about it but they do.
 

 

Michael, I am with you I think picnics are suppose to be romantic with the wine glasses and all silverware inside your picnic basket.  I have actually collected two picnic baskets over my time of which I routinely have to rescue from my wifes garage sales.  Apparently she sees no romance in picnics.  Both picnic baskets are totally outfitted with all that one would need for a romantic less the date.  You have to have a properly outfitted basket (no paper products), a good blanket, a shady tree not at the park, (location location), maybe a poetry book(or a comic book),  AND A DATE!!!!  All the ingredience for romance.    By the way Michel, I finished the book. I had Thompson Publishing publish a very limited amount.  

Has me in a Hanna-Barbera vibrant colors state of mind singing while I imbibe "He will sleep till noon but before it’s dark,He’ll have every picnic basket that’s in Jellystone Park. Yogi has it better than a millionaire. That’s because he’s smarter than the average bear."

    
If stemware, china and cutlery enter the picture, you're talkin'- picnique; a whole 'nother deal altogether.

Picnics. I love picnics. Even with sunburn, ants and grumpy family members, I love picnics. So when I discovered that my significant other regularly ate outside at his picnic table next to his firept whenever the weather permitted, needless to say I was pleased. I'd say that a good 2/3 of the meals we've shared have been al fresco.
 
If anyone ever asked me which picnic I've experienced was my favourite, I'd have to say the Edwardian boating picnic I organised in June of 1990 when a round dozen of us rented a boat and headed down the river Ouse from Bedford, dressed in appropriate 1905 summer finery (which drew curious but polite looks fro mthe regular dog-walkers and strollers) and carrying with us three baskets of Wedgewood china, crystal glassware, sterling silverware, linen napkins and table cloths, champagne, caviar, and far too much excellent food, to stop at a friends river-backed property for games of bowls and croquet before heading back to the late twentieth century as the sun set.
 
This was one of several "time-travel" picnics I've set up in the past. It's been several years since I've done one. Hmmm. It's time to plan another obviously.
 
Any suggestions for the time period?

 
Leaving aside company events or any other that have obligation attached, a picnic is a longer, slower, easier version of one of the best things in life: a meal among people you know, enjoy, love and who love you back.

It is grass stains, bug bites, sun block, games and a lot of casual unhurried visiting and in  its ultimate expression, ends in quiet times around a bonfire before everybody trundles, a little reluctantly, off to their blessed rest. 

Hi BongoBern! I onder if I pssed your residence earlier this week as I drove around the Upper Keys. I'm typing this from my hotel room in Miami,following a week of diving off of Islamorada. The weather was gorgeous and the waters are pristine and full of fish.  So do as he said and go on down! We picnicked on the dive boat between dives. I would have loved to stay longer but my vacation days have run out and I'm on my way back to Dayton, Ohio in the morning. I truly appreciated the kindness and friendliness of all the Keys locals that I met.
 
Oh, yes. I finally got the last of my photos from the dives downloaded fro mteh camera to my computer. Can you say 2,264 photographs in 7 dives? I promise I'll post some of them as soon as I go through and get them organised and captioned properly.

lotlot--I liked it a lotlot.  Welcome and thanks.

Bert, thanks for letting us know about the venture between Greenbriar and Keeneland. I, too, have placed it at number 1 on my personal "to-do" list. Now to talk my SO into it.
 
Did you ever go to Strasburg PA and ride the shortline train between Strasburg and Paradise? Doing that was the highlight of the summer when we went "east" to visit the grandparents when I was a kid. I still love steam trains, Though any train will make me smile.

Tonight's meal really wouldn't work for a picnic. But I just want to make everybody hungry.

I started with a pound of pork sausage. I browned that in olive oil with onions, fresh chives, and sweetened garlic. I sliced up two fresh tomatoes from the Farmer's Market, added a can of tomato paste (for which I feel slightly guilty), a cup of white wine, and put it all in the crock pot on low for about 5 hours. Before I served it over organic spaghetti, I added about 1/3 of a cup of Parm. cheese.

This the link you wanted Bert?  I'm envious..... 
 
http://www.lex18.com/news/the-greenbriar-and-keeneland-form-unique-partnership/
 

Stoney, Stoney, he's our man.....you all know the rest....
 
 
 

Spring  Fragrance,   Dancing  Katz:    That's  the  link!   Story  was  also  in  Business  Week,  the  story  Kentucky  edition  of  the  same  paper.  If  you  find  it  there,  click  on  the  link  within  the  story  "photos  of  Keeneland,"  you  will  be  redirected  to  20  great  photographs  of  the  world's  most  intimate  &  nostalgic  racetrack,  "Old  South"  in  atmosphere.   The  money  is  already  in  place  for  the  train,  which  will  run  from  Morgantown,  West   Virginia  on  existing  track  to  Lexington,  Kentucky.  Check  out  the  engine  whose  picture  I  posted  today  on  my  profile  page,  not  the  same  engine,  but  similar  in  that  it  is  fully  restored  and  operational.   I've  had  the  privilege  of  riding  that  engine  on  an  Ohio  Central  Railroad  nostalga  excursion  in  Sugarcreek,  Ohio  during  Fall  through  Amish  country.  

I  misspoke,  I  was  trying  to  say  "also  in  Cincinnati  Enquirer,  or  Northern  Kentucky  edition  of  the  same  paper."   That's  where  the  photo  link  within  the  story  redirects  you  to  20  pictures,  not  the  Business  Week  piece.   Spring  Fragrance,  you're  missing  out,  living  {literally!}  on  the  opposite  side  of  planet  earth!!!

I have decided to take part of my vast fortunes,and recreate a classic vintage railroad as well.And, y'all are invited. I believe I shall aquire an engine,a dining car,and a caboose. Hopefully, the entire set will not cost all I have,as I will need track,too.   Should I set it up on the floor, or the table top?

RY: If you put it on large sheet plywood then it can be lifted onto the table or placed on the floor as your playmates need for access. :)

Every year, the company my granddaddy worked for, Buckeye Technologies would hold their annual employee barbecue and picnic at the Memphis fairgrounds. which they rented for the day. There were long tables set up under tents and pits cooking ribs and pulled pork. oh my , I am so hungry for some right now.  Anyway, we had the run of the fairgrounds...all the rides, any we wanted to ride, we didn't need tickets. It was so much fun and the barBQ  ( I think pretty much any from Memphis) was/is the best there is.
And on the 4th of July every year my mom and sisters and I would go downtown and find a spot on the bluff overlooking the Mississippi River across from Mud Island where the fire works display was staged. We always packed a picnic of fried chicken, deviled eggs, potato salad...uh oh...I'll have to post this link again...and lemonade. From there we'd eat and
 http://www.youtube.com/watch_popup?v=BNR74UCidBI&feature=player_embedded ; and watch the fireworks. Mud Island ( not really an island, but a peninsula) was a small air strip at the time, but I think it's been turned into a green belt. Those are wonderful memories that I haven't thought of in years and years. Thank you all for yours too.

 
Bert, here's your link with the photo link in the middle.
http://nky.cincinnati.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/AB/20100617/NEWS0103/306170047
....and if I live where you all are, who's going to be left keeping an eye on the world while you all sleep?  :-)
 
BTW, am loading some videos on tasmania, not my own..will not attemp to reinvent whats already so well done.
 
 
 

Lucky I check...bad link, here it is again

 http://nky.cincinnati.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/AB/20100617/NEWS0103/306170047

hmmm...not doing what its supposed to:
Cut and paste the whole shortcut into your browser - that works

Ah, fireworks. . . the largest display of civil disobedience possible in most cities....I used to climb the tallest water tower I had access to (my job gives me security clearance)and watch for hours,in every direction. Of course, the City fireworks display was at the lakefront, Oak Street beach for a long time, then Navy Pier, and then the barges in the lake...sadly, that surrounded the actual show with really tall buildings,so that my view point was now way back in the real city...so I looked away,to the west,north and south,and there....there....there....there...there,(it was like a competition)(but more like the real effect-WAR)spurious examples of disobedience,but in reality, that is what it was to represent-war-fought to protect your home (homeland)....now I know this is a little premature, 4th of July is still weeks away (and luckily, the 4th of July and Independance Day fall on the same day again this year ;-}), but picnics,and fireworks,and the 4th of July,well,they fit together.....and fireflies,too

Addendum....when they started the "Taste of...." , they moved the "BIG" fireworks to the 3rd of July.....so much for tradition   .   make way for commercialization   .   .but then, 3 to 4 MILLION PEOPLE (supposedly)flock to the lake front to observe.....

We had a very nice wicker picnic suitcase. ...with metal plates and flatware held in place with straps. and we always used cloth napkins. My mom was a little bit of a snob about things like that. It was a swell picnic "basket" that sure was put to good use.

and some classic Roadsters had those classic wicker picknic suitcase sized baskets strapped to the "Boot",via robust leather strapping....MGTC, Austin Healy 300,....pinky raised,anyone?   .   THere was a classic restaurant/deli in Chicago,named Kennesy. It was at Belmont and Lake Shore Drive. Besides having the greatest wine and brandy cellar,they would rent those classic  picknic baskets,filled with great house 'specialties' wine,cheese,smoked meats,breads,etc.,and linen and silver. Belmont Harbor had picnic areas,and of course,large water craft. But you could also then take the lake front roads to Ravinia, an hour's ride up the twisty Sheridan Road, past lake front mansions, the likes of which only a very limited few could call home. Ravinia is the home to live music,by rather famous musicians,and a place where elegance resides,alongside picnic blankets with rented service and libation....I wish I could include the fresh lake air,and the mown grass fragrence with this small representation of those experiences...
   

Tig, I just caught your office band at the fountain story.  I sounds very much like a typical lunch in New York City.  Where did you experience such a sight?

You n Me, Stony ....... A woven Wicker Basket, with Bone China, Orefors Crystal, Ivory handled Silver Flatware, and Linen Napkins ... Essential for Pic-ing a Nic ... The most egregious Boor on the planet ... would not dare drink Champagne out of a Styrofoam Cup ...  And of course, a sturdy Folding Table and sturdy, non-squeaky Folding Chairs as well ... Ideally, the Chauffer would Butle, Serve, and Bus, in a pinch ... A subdued selection of Verdi on the CD player (Give the Chamber Ensemble a break for the day .... Black Tie in all that heat, you know ...)  Not forgetting a Fold-Out little Pavillion to relax under, and a Gossamer Parasol for Mme'selle, in case she wanted to walk off a little of that Dinner before Dessert is served .......