For the first six months of her life, my daughter lived entirely on picnics. A mother’s moveable feast — packed not in a basket, but a nursing bra — taught her that eating was a pleasure to be had wherever you might find yourself. Then at the six-month solid-food milestone, mealtimes suddenly became lessons in modern civility: silverware, linen (aka bibs), and being confined to a chair rather than reclining as if at a Roman banquet. via WordPress https://jonathanwilhoite.wordpress.com/2016/07/30/our-love-affair-with-picnics-the-moveable-feast-food-and-ritual/
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AuthorI have a pretty fast paced life. I'm fairly successful and travel a lot. Come from a really good family and love to spend the time I have with them and friends. Archives
July 2019
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