Mom got us a picnic basket for our wedding present. It’s her traditional nuptial celebration gift for all my siblings and her friends. Not quite sure how it started since I don’t really have any family memories surrounding picnics and don’t think Mom even owns one herself, but the ritual continues. I gave her a hard time about it, at first, reminding her that in seven years, Husband and I have never gone on a picnic and don’t really have many plans to start. She offered to pick out something else for us, but upon threat of losing something I’ve never had, I suddenly couldn’t imagine future married life without a picnic basket in my possession.
We go on picnics now.
I’m not really sure where the idea of picnics comes from. Seems a little silly to put all the work into preparing food only to pack it up, hope it stays at a temperature that will prevent food poisoning, and carry it into the woods to eat among the heat and mud and bugs. I assumed picnics are popular in movies, but then couldn’t really think of many I’ve seen that highlight a picnic. Maybe they come from popular songs or ancient traditions or a nostalgic sense of Americana?
Or maybe the fresh air awakens our senses to find more flavor in our food and the change of environment allows us to see each other in a new light and the freedom from distractions gives us pause to reflect on our blessings. And maybe we’ll make memories crying while looking for a bandage after a bee sting or laughing while eating with our hands because someone forget the forks. And maybe those quiet, beautiful things are what Mom is hoping to pass along as a wedding present.
P.S. Here’s a peak at our most recent outings: