One of our many stops along last week's mid-Atlantic tour was Baltimore, namely to see one of my very closest friends (and her boyfriend!) and to see my brother and sister-in-law's new place. The weather couldn't have been nicer, as evidenced by this clear (non-smoggy) view from the park in Federal Hill. I can't remember the last time we had an honest-to-goodness picnic, the kind where you bring blankets and a straw basket and cut fresh, drippy tomatoes on plastic plates with a pocket knife. Since we have an ample deck, we don't tend to picnic much at our house, but maybe we should. Of course, the other ingredient in a picnic is people, and not just the people you're with, but the strangers unpacking their baskets full of egg salad, bologna sandwiches, and hot dogs right next to you with the friendly common bond of eating al fresco joining you in camaraderie. That doesn't happen on your own two-and-a-half acres in rural Vermont.
Sun, August 2, 2009