Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Cheryl's Zen Picnic

So here I am with Cheryl under a tree. We’re sitting on the riverbank, in my backyard by the white oak tree. I haven’t been here in years. She hasn’t been ever. How could she? We haven’t met in person until I picked her up at O’Hare and we drove down here. You see she got me listening to this calming music, and I invited her over for an American picnic in the calmest place that I know.

I think she might have been surprised at how flat and open Illinois is compared to the part of England where she hails from. It looks especially open this time of year with all the empty cornfields waiting. As we drove by in my little car, I told her stories about what it was like growing up here. She told me stories about what it was like growing up there.

The two-hours in the car went by in no time at all. In no time at all, we were putting a large red, blue and yellow plaid blanket on the riverbank in my backyard by the old white oak tree, setting up lunch for Cheryl’s Zen Picnic.

It’s not spectacularly beautiful in my old backyard at this time of year—even though I’ve managed to push the weather to early spring. Okay well, it is to me, but I can understand why others wouldn’t think so. The sky isn’t as blue as some might think it should be. The grass isn’t as green as some might say it should grow. But we have a blanket, some food, and plenty of wine, Cheryl’s music on the CD player whenever we want, and big pillows for leaning back on.

We really can’t tell when the music’s on or off, that’s how peaceful the riverbank is and how calming the company is too. Maybe it has something to do with leaning back on big pillows to look up through the trees at the sky, like a couple of kids with nothing to do. It’s nice having all of the time in the world, here on a Zen picnic with Cheryl waiting for you to join us, on the riverbank in my backyard by the big white oak tree.

We have plenty of food, wine, and room on the blanket, and pillows for leaning back to look up at the sky.
—me strauss Letting me be

12 comments:

Anonymous said...

You know--I've never ever been on a full-blown picnic. The couple of times I've attempted to picnic I've been rained out.

I take it as a sign from God. No picnics for mojo.

Anonymous said...

Well now I could lie here and look at the sky all day :-)
Thank you.

"ME" Liz Strauss said...

Hey Mojo,
Rained out of picinics. Was that in California? I would take that as a singn from God too.
Liz

"ME" Liz Strauss said...

Hi Cheryl,
I thought that would be a fun memory. I don't know that's what I'd actually do now that I think about it. I'd probaby take you to Torri's Ice Cream Parlor and another place I know to have that picnic.
Liz

Anonymous said...

great stuff.
percy.id208

"ME" Liz Strauss said...

Thanks, Percy,
I appreciate your saying so.
Come back and meet the rest of us who hang out here.
Liz

Anonymous said...

I love picnics.
And I agree, the whether has been kind to us. Shhh. Don't jinx it.
Make room for me, I'm coming.
Oh, and make sure that wine glass is full...

"ME" Liz Strauss said...

You got it Melly,
We'll make sure to have plenty of wine for you. In fact, maybe we'll just rent a different car and you can take the drive down too.
Liz

"ME" Liz Strauss said...

Hi Janus,
Oh there's cheeee, good hard crusted bread, apples with brie, grapes, and some bruschetta. I think a variety of veggies with some dipping sauce was around and some stuff for making sandwiches.
Liz

Anonymous said...

Wine is good...what did you have for food though

Anonymous said...

Aren't blog friends great! I want to join you. And then throw my own party. Mine would be a little more noisy, but I think you'd like it :)

"ME" Liz Strauss said...

You throw a blog party, Rain.
And I'll be there for sure. I like noisy parties too, just as long as people aren't looking at me and acting like we're supposed to be having "fun." :)
Liz