Pickin’ at the Ritz

It’s our annual family reunion potluck at a sprawling park it’s been at for decades; fit with two playgrounds, a broken-down water feature I’d play in as a kid, BBQs, and cedar siding picnic areas.

I enjoyed observing the customs and norms of my family today.

“Is she a mushroom picker yet?” Evelyn’s eyeing the playground, so I field the question, “Yep, she sure is.” I’m particularly proud of the fall day when we went chanterelle picking and the Matrix-like moves I employed to duck and narrowly pass through wet pines and underbrush while stepping on a carpet of alder and maple leaves with her 11-month-old self strapped to my chest in a baby wrap.

It felt like a rite of passage, her visit to our secret mushroom patch.

Two huckleberry pies my second cousin baked from hand picked berries was also the topic of conversation. And since “everything is late” to bloom and fruit in nature this year, the time when we pick berries will be too.

I must tell you how delicious the fresh crab in the pasta salad was and how great in previous years the grilled oysters tasted. We are pretty spoiled to have family live on the Sound.

I jokingly told Dave I need an “I’m just here for the food” t-shirt. But now that I say it, I’m pretty confident most people feel this way, and maybe future family reunion goers want to buy this t-shirt from me on Etsy.

Anyway, the Febreeze bamboo-scent wall plug-in should arrive in the mail anytime. Maybe another day, I’ll tell you about the weird rabbit hole I went down to find this dang fragrance that mimics Disney World’s Grand Floridian hotel lobby scent that I couldn’t shake from my memory after a trip in 2018.

Do I sneak downstairs for an ice cream bar? By simply asking the question, I know the answer. Let’s do this!

Love, Jaclynn

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