By Trina Machacek
I recently read a story about a family that had a little place in the 1880’s in a rural part of a western state. They had a little ranch, raised some sheep and kids. Lots and lots of kids. Not goat kids. Johnny and Susie human kids. In the story they talked of taking a sleigh to get to town in the winter and how little Susie’s feet got so cold they turned blue, then as they warmed, they turned bright glowing red and she lost her toenails. Oh that wasn’t the end of the story. There was also noted that five guys in the area needed to go to town and had left early one morning just to get caught by the cold and snow and all five had frozen to death. Apparently, the family took a sleigh and the men took a buggy. That saved their lives. I guess that is why Santa takes his sleigh and not Mrs. Clause’s two wheeled drive Mini Cooper in the dead of winter.
Trina Machacek
But! Yes, a “what’s that got to do with picnic supplies” “but?” Well there is of course a way to get from frozen falling off toenails to picnic supplies. It’s all about being prepared. As a girl and somewhat of a romantic I see a picnic being enjoyed by a young man and woman. With the fried chicken, blanket, checkered napkins and the perfect wicker basket. Yes, like in the movies. In reality I actually see greasy chicken legs being eaten that have been picked out of a wad of aluminum foil, hands wiped on dusty pants, a half can warm of soda and laughter. Somewhere in between is an actual picnic.
The difference between a picnic in the 1880’s and in the 2020’s is the word, “glamping.” Glamping where you never get a piece of dirt in your potato salad and the watermelon is always cut in perfect little squares and eaten with a fork for goodness sakes. Nary a paper plate is in sight.
Old timey meals eaten outside were not picnics. They were just meals. Like when the kitchen table didn’t seat enough people, or it was just too danged hot inside. Then in some fashion picnics became an event to plan for and gather up all that is needed to survive under a tree for an afternoon. What supplies it takes to do just that. The wicker basket is replaced by a cooler. The cooler the cooler the cooler your picnic will be. Chicken may be the do all end all for picnics, but something in a wrap will be neater. There should always, without question always be potato salad. Somehow it seems to turn into a pasta something, or even a little baggy of fresh cut vegies. Hey, we all have to make adjustments. The watermelon that is thrown into the creek until time to eat may be replaced by…. No wait. There is no replacement for a watermelon at a picnic. If there is, you should rethink your picnic mates.
Back to that romantic persona we sometimes feel ourselves falling into being. Wanting now to be a simpler time. Just a few short years, uh some 60 years, I was learning to swim in an outdoor pool when we lived in Reno, Nevada. I remember having to jump in and clasp our hands on our heads and dunk under the water some six times to get our little goosebump covered bodies accustomed to the water. Then the lessons began. I took a ride back to Idlewild park in Reno recently to remember those times. That is what brought about this picnic stuff.
Oh, how things have changed. Parents were there with all and sizes of littles, playing on slides. On, in and around plastic playground equipment. Colorful, safe and there was even an ice cream truck driving around with the little musical ding-ding calling to hot sweaty kids. Not too many kids were running towards the truck like I seemed to remember. The biggest and very noticeable thing that gave me pause?
Telephones. AARRGGHH!! Walking and talking and arms waving of business and problems. The picnic baskets have been replaced by backpacks carried by the littles. Mark the words of this romantic. One day we will see an entire group of 40 plus year old adults hunched over because they carried their picnics on their backs and not in a wicker basket. Just sayin’.
