I sip a very good Italian half cup of coffee, black, right now as I write this on ANOTHER rainy, drippy, soggy, wet day. But yesterday was the bright spot weatherwise. Sunny, warm and perfect for a picnic we headed to Winchester Lake immediately after church. I had prepared before leaving for church by packing up some fried chicken, salsa and chips, black olives, Perrier with slices of lime, and a scrumptious dessert of meringue pillows, whipped cream and strawberries. A thermos of coffee and more chips followed along with Jay's daughter's family. I'd packed bread, butter and bananas in case we needed more food for the kidlettes.
It has rained for months (when it wasn't snowing), and the forecast is for continued rain in our near future. So, yesterday was especially wonderful. Jay and I pose together after the particularly scrumptious dessert
pictured below with small paper cups of coffee.
Evan was not fond of the Pavlova (meringue pillows), but he gave them a try, and then passed the remains to Grampa Jay who is a nut for sweets.
"It melts in your mouth like cotton candy!"
Isn't she the cutest little pixie...with a dot of strawberry on her bottom lip!?
Lovella and I took a walk around some of the lake while Grampa and Steve helped the kids catch a BIG trout, 3 brim, and 1 perch. We saw this heron fly up to the tree, and then take off a few moments later. The walk was invigorating, the conversation was sweet, and the time together was special because they are all caught up in building/sheetrocking/painting their house out at the ranch. The weather cooperated right up until we took our leave (4:00); it sprinkled on us the whole way home after the dark, gray clouds moved back in.
I thank God for the bright spot in the weather, for the bright spot at the lake, and the bright spot of a picnic. We don't do picnics much anymore because they are so labor-intensive. It was worth it to plan a very simple one with such perfect treats and perfect companions.
Years ago, and as a child, we celebrated this holiday with my Grandma Boothby in Portland, Oregon. My sister, Margy, and I would pick all the flowers in Gram's yard with her help, put them in the trunk of the car, and go to Grampa's grave at the veteran's cemetary where we decorated his spot lavishly. We called it "Decoration Day" back then, and we always had a picnic where my Grandmother would much on 'redishes' (she called them), and raw green onions with great enthusiasm. I miss her and those days when things were so simple. I tried to relive that simplicity yesterday, although we don't have but 2 tulips. We did have a conversation with an older fella who was fishing and wearing a United States Marine Corps cap.
It made me feel good inside.