I get it already, you say as you idly browse what must be at least the fourth post in the last six months filled with picnic photos. You like picnics. Whatever.
Do I sense the bitter undertones of jealousy? Yes, yes I believe I do. Because you so wish you were so recklessly blessed with the bounty of wonderful individuals I am grateful to call friends.
Because when my family was nowhere to be found, my friends had dinner on the balcony on Christmas day. And when life was idyllic, we celebrated as one on a hill overlooking the city. Life undulates, but picnics remain the same.
My sister lives by this saying, life is people. If so, then I wouldn't have a life without picnics.