Food and Naught Else.

John leaves soon to spend an evening and a day whittling schoolwork away. The computer leaves with him, so no bonafide shotsnaps post shall come until next week.

Fill 'Er Hup! update: I've posted the fried chicken recipe on BuildaBelly for any interested parties. (May Purdy chickens staunchly face their slaughter, and may their brave hearts be buttressed by the hope of being turned into fried chicken.)

Fall has arrived in earnest. Let the revelry commence!

One for here,

and one to go.

Speaking of hidden...

A bit ago, as I picked up the dropped and hidden, the forgotten and misplaced, and the all-around clutter of our living room, Millie came running out of the bedroom, glowworm in hand. She was supposed to be napping, and I watched her run around the back of the rocking chair, snatching at the air in front of her.

"Jacy," she sternly reproved, "Come here! It's naptime right now." Then with the elusive and invisible Jacy held tightly in her clasped fist, she marched back to the bedroom.

(Lately, Jacy's been going to work with John in order to buy flowers, but I suppose she stayed home today, hidden behind the rocking chair.)

Oh, and may I introduce Millie's most recent friend? Her name is Friendly, and she's, or at least I assume she is, quite friendly.

Drizzle.

With an unrelenting autumn rain in the background, I give you picnic pictures from Summer's Last Hurrah. A friend of ours gave us the coolest picnic basket, complete with tablecloth, candles, and tableware (clothware?) for our wedding four years ago. This is the first time we've used it because our picnics are usually spontaneous or secretive (i.e. John packs a picnic in his backpack and surprises us). Using a cool picnic basket makes a picnic more picnic-y, the bugs less buggy, and the food more feastlike, and I'll not return to pre-basket picnics (unless they're spontaneous and secretive).

My midwife appointment on Friday would have been dull but for the sound of our baby's steady life rhythm. I'm an occasional overachiever and found that I've got a good chance to win the title of World's Largest Pregnant Girl (With Only One Baby Inside). I'd like to take this moment to thank last week's picnic, with its fried chicken, Italian bread and butter, tomato bruschetta, homemade dill pickles, cherry tomatoes + cucumbers, apples + sharp cheddar, deviled eggs, fizzy punch, and chocolate chip cookies. I couldn't have done this without you, and you've been there every step of the way....

I've decided to begin a regular practice (which will earn the title of "tradition" once a few years have passed) of Seasonal Picnics. We will have at least one outdoor picnic for each season, with season-appropriate garb and feasting. Autumn is next, spiced cider and pumpkin-infused. (I look forward to hot cocoa and gingerbread cookies in winter.) The baby will be here in time for our squelchy spring picnic. One last hurrah!

(Um. Has anyone noticed a recurring theme since my morning sickness has passed?)

This was part of the wedding picnic package.

With picnic food

Fellow feasters (all five)

Geese above

Geese below

And a Dread Tickle Monster (cleverly disguised)