Some days are like those little plastic gems you had as a child – the ones that used to end up glued to your mother’s shoes by some inexplicable trick of fate.
Today was a plastic gem day. It was beautiful and sticky and grubby and perfect. It was plucking at grass blades and barking back at dogs. It was all the mess of childhood with all the sincerity of maturity.
Me and le man couldn’t stand one more day of being shut up inside. We haven’t found it easy to face the heat these past few days, finding it easier to cuddle up next to the open fridge and scowl at any sign of the sun’s rays filtering through the window. But today was different. We slung the picnic rug under our arm and made our way to the local park, stopping along the way for some food supplies.
Way back in the day, we went on a romantic break away to Paris, pretty much penniless, and avoided starvation from one day to the next with a store bought picnic of an evening. Today, we felt it was time to rekindle the romance with a mimic array of foods, and so we sat on the grass with: a crusty baguette; polony; a selection of hams; brie; yogurt; and some (not so posh) crisps for that added crunch.
How delightfully posh we felt, surrounded by rejoicing school children having just broken up for summer, in our little plastic gem with all our grown up food.
We spent the whole afternoon there, lounging about in the shade of the trees, dozing in each other’s arms, lazily leafing through books. Le man pointed heavenwards and joked about watching the clouds in what was a clear blue sky; I shoved him playfully and directed his gaze to the trees overhead, each leaf haloed in sunlight. We chatted, too, incessantly, flitting from one topic to the next with childish excitement. Listening to music, we sang along to classics from our past and giggled when people turned around to stare in wonder at the strangely noisy couple in the corner.
Today was picnic perfect.
Today was my little plastic gem, where old met with new and love met with laughter.