When most people talk about 'eating out' they are probably thinking of
cafés, pubs or restaurants, and imagining their favourite lunch or
dinner menus – with the emphasis on the 'eating'.
In contrast, my
mind goes straight to the 'out' and pictures suitable 'spots', scenes
and places to sit (preferably with a handy bench) where I can throw down
a rug, open up a bag or two, and spread out a picnic.
This routine,
or even way of life, was instilled in me at a very early age, when I
definitely showed a preference for Mummy's home food and being out in
the open air – with not too much notice of the weather – rather than
sitting formally in a stuffy restaurant. Our chief delight on a car
trip was to find a good spot for a picnic even if it meant taking a
slight detour... And picnics were not just reserved for lunches or teas
– sitting under a hedge on a warm summer's evening, usually a Sunday,
with bread and cheese, maybe pickles and ham, plus of course a good
bottle of home-brewed cider – was my father's ultimate pleasure.
So
it was natural that with our own three girls 30 years later, I followed
the same pattern – perhaps just down the road to the local beach, or
sitting around a table in the garden... a perfect solution for messy
eaters and any food spillage too!
I have many memories of 'eating
out' – they seem to be recalled more readily than meals under cover –
maybe a bit like sketching a scene compared to taking a photograph.
Just recently we (just the two of us now) often cycled along the lanes
to a nearby boatyard, packing cheese and pickle sandwiches, a small
bottle of wine and a couple of glasses into my bike bag, to sit and look
at the boats – even better if the tide was on the move... And of
course, packing a few sandwiches and a drink – not forgetting apples and
my favourite bananas – into a rucksack for a walk is marvellous – and
better still when the picnic is finished and the rucksack is lighter! I
also have happy
memories of a flask of coffee and digestive biscuits – sitting in my MG,
crossing the Mendip hills on dark winter evenings with a baby asleep in
the back – the windows all misted up with steam.
Oh yes, all
ages can be catered for on a picnic – and a sense of companionship and
freedom is assured – it's a way of really living 'the moment' and being
part of the scene around.
For my 'eating out' pictures I'm
attaching an old family picnic from about 1960 – with primus stove
(sheltered from the wind), and my father in his chair and hat, and my
sister and myself on a rug, somewhere near the Dorset coast. Then a
summertime garden picnic 30 years or so later with our young family, and
finally one of me plus banana on a beach in Norfolk – about 15 years
after that.
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