We have a picnic.
We are lucky enough to live within a few steps of Lake Washington. But, to be clear, we are not in one of those uppity, snobby, ex-microsoft-exec lakefront neighborhoods. No, our house is smack in the middle of a 3 mile long, public waterfront park, and we love it. Plenty of jogging, swimming, biking, boating and people watching to be done.
We try to take advantage of our proximity to the lake as often as we can. One of our favorite, low-maintenance activities is having a picnic. There is something wonderfully satisfying and restful about spreading a blanket, pouring some wine into a plastic cup and just watching the world go by.
Restaurants being so stubborn and aggressive in their 'no dogs' policy, Oscar usually doesn't get to join us when we go out for dinner. But picnics are a family affair. That is a major part of the appeal.
The picnic basket was a wedding shower gift from my mom who is so thoughtful and invariably selects the most charming gifts. It is stocked with all the essentials: cutlery, plates, salt and pepper, cutting board, cloth napkins (!). I always insist that we take our picnic basket with us. It can get heavy and it is kind of awkward to carry, but it adds a little bit of formality and tradition to the feast. I love it.
This picnic was especially appropriate and bittersweet to us as it seems that we are desperately clinging to the last few easy days of summer. I truly love the fall with its changing leaves, football games and the ubiquitous new school clothes (a concept to which I persistently adhere despite the fact that I've been out of school for more years than I care to count). But I always get a little sad when the air starts to turn cooler and the sun goes down a bit earlier.
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