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About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write.
Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground.
 
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Off the Cuff / My Other Journal #816910 added May 15, 2014 at 7:21pm
Restrictions: None
Its No Picnic for Me
Martha Stewart says, “Everyone loves a picnic!”
Easy for her to gloat. I bet she’d make Foie de Gras au Torchon, a pasta salad with arugula and string beans and pack those with home baked rolls and a bottle of 2006 Bourgogne Chardonnay in her self-refrigerated, see-through glass basket.
Not me. I don’t even know how to fake that funk. To me a picnic has to have Deets first as I don’t like itching and scratching, then red and white checkered table cloth, and a straw basket with sandwiches in it. Better yet, just dump in the ingredients and have everyone make their own sandwiches. Oh, don’t forget the cooler and your six packs.
To be direct, my answer to the question, “How do you plan the perfect picnic?” is: “You don’t.”
Joking aside, I truly don’t care for picnics. On the other hand, I don’t mind having lunch in our covered porch with goodies from the kitchen spread over our outdoor dining set. When my kids were young, we’d have barbecues often in the backyard. I liked them fine, only because it meant less mess in the kitchen.
Maybe why I dislike picnics has to do with an old memory. Way back when, one of my husband’s friends and his wife dragged us to a “friends” picnic where there were more than ten families. Hubby knew them all, and I was acquainted with a few people there, also. Everything was all right at first, with us making small talk and sharing our goods and recipes for specific items. Then two drama queens started some kind of an altercation over some petty thing. I think it was over how a certain recipe should be handled. Then people began taking sides. In no time, all the past wrongs were on the table besides the food. One couple left in a huff; another started packing up. Next thing you know everyone was leaving. Oh well, as far as my love of people-watching went, that served me right.
Coming back to Martha Stewart, she also says: “Eating outside can make even a simple meal seem like an adventure (if you're a kid), romantic (if you're a couple), or just a welcome change of pace (for the rest of us). But you don't have to trek to a park, beach, or forest preserve; it's just as fun (and much easier) to have one in your own backyard.”
Well, I have news for her. I’m no kid, and I don’t like *romantic* while the neighbors are watching. Plus, if I wanted a welcome change of pace, I’d fly to Hawaii. That would be a very welcome change of pace, but I don’t because I’ve decided to avoid airports like the plague, and Hawaii is too far to swim. So, only one thing is left for me: Take a sandwich to the beach and share it with the seagulls. Of course I have to have my hair covered against the seagulls’ thank-you notes.
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Prompt: How do you plan the perfect picnic?
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