It was Joe’s idea.
I just sent the message.
Hey friends! We are overdue for hanging out. The time has come. Joe and I would love to get together with you all this Saturday afternoon for a picnic. Around 1ish at Washington Park? Who’s in? Dianna has already said yes, so it’s officially happening/going to be a party. I’m envisioning food, blankets, frisbee, a dog or two… Let’s DO THIS. Let us know! xox
Magically, everyone had the afternoon free, so this happened:
A gathering which involved nine of us and a messy picnic table with curried egg salad, brie and crackers, Juanita’s chips and homous, far too many chocolate chip cookies, a baguette, spicy guacomole, moscato, strawberries, and a variety of beers and ciders, which we were quickly told by the Washington Park ranger dudes needed to be out of sight. Someone was smart enough to bring red plastic cups. Thirst quenched.
Also, there was frisbee (which I had every intention of playing but never did due to prioritizing chatting on the grass with Sara and Bryan) and three dogs: Oscar, Italia, and Charlie. A toddler-age boy named Milo who belonged to the family of picnickers next to us spent over an hour tracking down sticks and calling out, “Charlie! I got a stick for you!”, then throwing them to the pup—a little black cocker spaniel who belongs to our friends Dianna and Evan. They got engaged the next day. (Congrats, guys!). This had nothing to do with the picnic or the toddler, but is very cool news on the Portland front.
End of May/early June last year I was in Saskatchewan, still fending off winter. I mean, I was born a prairie girl, but seriously, my feelings are that this time of year should look pretty much exactly how it does in this picture.
Spring in Portland: Thank you.
(Photo credit: Samuel Dunlop)