As I was telling a friend, (some) women have this thing about picnics. There’s something about taking a walk, laying down a beautiful mat upon soft grass, and then proceeding to partake in an outdoor meal of mediocrely homemade sandwiches and by-now-lukewarm soda.
It was December and I wanted to do something different together on Christmas day. I gave Siew advance warning and carefully laid out what was going to happen – we will be going to a reservoir, we need to pack food and drink, we need to find a mat we can sit on. Simple, right? But Siew needs to be prepared. Especially when one senses any form of resistance to the idea.
We did manage to find a mat at a supermart, thus avoiding the need to head down to Army Market to buy a ground sheet. Siew was dutiful with the picnic supplies-buying. She even cooed at the mat we bought. However, what tanked my plan in the end was the weather (and of course, Siew). It was merely cloudy, but she took the opportunity to declare that it will rain and hence the picnic will be held in the balcony.
Our balcony, that rectangular space right outside our living room.
Of course, I acquiesced, with a snort and a laugh. Anyway, after she announced that the picnic will be at home, and I had spread the mat onto the balcony floor, she gleefully hopped off and returned with decorative items, happily declaring that this is an advantage of picnicking at home.
So here’s what went into our picnic:
- toast (I was allowed four pieces!)
- ham & salami
- hardboiled eggs and salt
- a book, a sketchbook and our mini pad
- a cup of coffee, a soda, and oolong tea
- a rattan chair
- a LEGO VW camper van, two ceramic birds, and flowers
There was a decent breeze, and thankfully, greenery around our estate. We read and drew, and refilled our drinks when we needed to. A perk of doing it at home, I guess!
On that day, I imagined there was this line between the balcony and our living room, and felt quite happy that beyond it, I could have the marvel of the picnic I wanted, and back within, we were in the comfort and ease of our little home.