For the past two days the kids and I have been having porch picnics for lunch. My initial reaction to such a request is always resistance. In my mind, eating outside is equated with family reunions: hot sticky August days competing with the bugs for my meal. No thanks. But, I'm starting to come around. Silas might just have the right idea. A blanket thrown on the front porch with the breeze blowing through? That's actually pretty pleasant.
This blanket, in particular, was a wedding gift. Each panel of the quilt was made by a different friend or family member. I remember crying when it was presented to us at our rehearsal dinner, but then in the chaos of moving and floods that occurred concurrently with our wedding, it got stashed in a drawer and forgotten about. Last summer I started kicking around the idea of making a picnic quilt to take out and about with us; a place where Theda and I could kick back while Silas played at the park. So I looked for patterns and thought about fabric and then I realized, oh. I already have a quilt! Done and done.
I'm also getting more use out of that breakfast tray than every before. I've been carting that thing around with me for 15 years, ever since I got my first apartment and it's sat propped up on the counter in every kitchen I've had since then. It's traveled to three different states and was used maybe a half dozen times total. Now it has a daily date to help me carry my third (!) cup of coffee of the day out to the porch to enjoy these spring days with my littles.