🥖 🥗 Picnic with Friends - The Slow Life Stories - Bedtime Stories for Adults - Calming Stories for Grownups and All Ages

0:02 Welcome to The Slow Life, a village filled with cozy stories for everyone. I'll read this story 2 times to help you zone out or even fall asleep during the second reading. This story is called Picnic with Friends, and it's about an interesting suggestion, the satisfying ritual of packing for a picnic, and the sweetest of centerpieces. It's the day of our picnic that some friends and I had planned weeks ago.

0:45 My niece arrived again this morning to help me put the finishing touches of fruit and whipped cream on to the Pavlova we successfully made together over the last two days. I had told my friends that I would bring along a dessert that would surprise and hopefully delight them. Thankfully it turned out just as it was pictured and described in the recipe we found, not even knowing what this treat was the day prior to trying our hand at making it. My niece has other plans for the rest of the day, but as we'd made 2 so that we could taste test from one of them, she carefully loads the second masterpiece into her car to take home to share with others. I thank her for the interesting suggestion and of course, for helping to make it happen in time for our lunch in the park. I turned back to the island where the crown jewel sits like a cloud, topped with glossy whipped cream and glistening fruit.

2:05 I keep it on the cake stand as it has a cover that seals it in well enough for the short trip to the park. Most of my other packing is done as I didn't want this dessert to sit for too long before being eaten. I check the fancy roll of napkins the dishes for myself, as we'll each have our own. The small bottle of lemonade from the market is ice cold and I've remembered to put the bottle opener in. Thank goodness a knife to cut into the dessert is safely packed in as well.

2:49 It's a satisfying ritual, this gathering of items, a quick way to check things as complete on your list for the day. Outside, the sun is high and the bit of breeze carries the lightest hint of cut grass and lilacs taking their turn to bloom. The cake stand has a wide base and the basket holding the rest of my supplies locks it in place to keep it sturdy on the car floor. The drive to the park is short and I take it very slowly to keep our sweet creations safe. Other folks are owed around on this beautiful spring day. The bicycle lanes and paths are being used and appreciated by all.

3:45 Once I've parked there isn't fair to walk. I see two of my friends are there, lounging at the picnic table they've chosen. They sit surrounded by willows, tendrils swaying gently near the water, a perfect shaded spot by the small river. They wave happily when they see me running over to help me with my delicate package. It's a beautiful spot wherein speckled with sunlight peeking through with the river curving around the edge and the grass soft with butter. Cups a duck through the willows branches and set the basket on the table.

4:32 Then pause to drop my shoulders and look around at where we are in relaxation. One of them has already laid out a classic checkered tablecloth and the other is cutting slices of homemade brown bread. There's the thermos of coffee between them and a cloth covered plate they tell me is cheese and herbs scones. I arrange my things, enjoying the process, starting with the unfurling of two quilts over the bench seats for comfort. Shortly after, our other friend arrives, waving with one hand and balancing a round tin under the other arm. As promised, she's brought something warm from the oven. We say our hellos, and she tells us it's a tray of roasted vegetable tartlets, smelling richly of thyme and sweet pepper.

5:40 We rearrange the table to make room, every one nudging plates and baskets and bottles until it looks like a meal. A springtime feast, really. We take our seats, ready to sample what's in front of us. We each take a little of everything, layering flavours on small plates. Someone produces a jar of olives they'd almost forgotten they had another, a bowl of cherries. With everything set, we open our individual drinks. We've provided mine the bottle of lemonade, still cold as desired, and we toast with the clinking of mismatched bottles and mugs to this picnic we're so lucky to be having together. The conversation flows immediately afterwards, carried along by the refilling of plates and jars and other dishes passed across the table.

6:48 Eventually, we decide to save room for the dessert course. We sip our drinks and even play a game of cards, working around the array of goodies on the table. Just a couple of simple games, nothing with too much strategy. As today is about keeping things light, now it's time for something sweet. I reach for the Pavlova and place it in the middle of it all with care, lifting the glass cover, revealing it like a magician's final trick. The others lean forward, almost in unison.

7:32 I explained briefly how my niece and I made it together, how the meringue whipped into glossy peaks, how we layered the fruit with careful hands. There's an appreciative pause, followed by whispers of interest. Then they're reaching for plates again, spoons tapping softly, the first cut breaking through crisp meringue to the soft, marshmallowy centre as bytes are taken. The verdict is immediate and unanimous. It's the most interesting thing on the table.

8:14 One friend makes a quiet, pleased sound. Another is already talking about her second slice. When this one is finished, I feel a quiet warmth rising inside me, a soft note of satisfaction. Not just that it tastes good, but that's something made with so much joy is now being shared with others. I make an unnecessary mental note to tell my niece how well it went over, and I can already picture her delight that our laughter and pride in the kitchen carried in to this moment Here under the Willow trees beside the river.

9:07 Picnic with Friends It's the day of our picnic that some friends and I had planned weeks ago. My niece arrived again this morning to help me put the finishing touches of fruit and whipped cream on to the Pavlova we successfully made together over the last two days. I had told my friends that I would bring along a dessert that would surprise and hopefully delight them. Thankfully it turned out just as it was pictured and described in the recipe we found, not even knowing what this treat was the day prior to trying our hand at making it. My niece has other plans for the rest of the day, but as we'd made 2 so that we could taste test from one of them, she carefully loads the second masterpiece into her car to take home to share with others.

10:16 I thank her for the interesting suggestion and of course, for helping to make it happen in time for our lunch in the park. I turned back to the island where the crown jewel sits like a cloud, topped with glossy whipped cream and glistening fruit. I keep it on the cake stand as it has a cover that seals it in well enough for the short trip to the park. Most of my other packing is done as I didn't want this dessert to sit for too long before being eaten. I check the fancy roll of napkins the dishes for myself, as we'll each have our own.

11:07 The small bottle of lemonade from the market is ice cold and I've remembered to put the bottle opener in. Thank goodness a knife to cut into the dessert is safely packed in as well. It's a satisfying ritual, this gathering of items, a quick way to check things as complete on your list for the day. Outside, the sun is high and the bit of breeze carries the lightest hint of cut grass and the lilacs taking their turn to bloom. The cake stand has a wide base and the basket holding the rest of my supplies locks it in place to keep it sturdy on the car floor. The drive to the park is short and I take it very slowly to keep our sweet creations safe.

12:07 Other folks are owed around on this beautiful spring day. The bicycle lanes and paths are being used and appreciated by all. Once they've parked there, isn't far to walk, I see two of my friends are there, lounging at the picnic table they've chosen. They sit surrounded by willows, tendrils swaying gently near the water, a perfect shaded spot by the small river. They wave happily when they see me running over to help me with my delicate package.

12:48 It's a beautiful spot wherein speckled with sunlight peeking through with the river curving around the edge and the grass soft with butter. Cups a duck through the willows branches and set the basket on the table. Then pause to drop my shoulders and look around at where we are in relaxation. One of them has already laid out a classic checkered tablecloth and the other is cutting slices of homemade brown bread. There's the thermos of coffee between them and a cloth covered plate they tell me is cheese and herbs scones. I arrange my things, enjoying the process, starting with the unfurling of two quilts over the bench seats for comfort. Shortly after, our other friend arrives, waving with one hand and balancing a round tin under the other arm. As promised, she's brought something warm from the oven. We say our hellos, and she tells us it's a tray of roasted vegetable tartlets, smelling richly of thyme and sweet pepper.

14:13 We rearrange the table to make room, every one nudging plates and baskets and bottles until it looks like a meal. A springtime feast, really. We take our seats, ready to sample what's in front of us. We each take a little of everything, layering flavours on small plates. Someone produces a jar of olives they'd almost forgotten they had another, a bowl of cherries. With everything set, we open our individual drinks. We've provided mine the bottle of lemonade, still cold as desired, and we toast with the clinking of mismatched bottles and mugs to this picnic we're so lucky to be having together. The conversation flows immediately afterwards, carried along by the refilling of plates and jars and other dishes passed across the table.

15:21 Eventually, we decide to save room for the dessert course. We sip our drinks and even play a game of cards, working around the array of goodies on the table. Just a couple of simple games, nothing with too much strategy. As today is about keeping things light, now it's time for something sweet. I reach for the Pavlova and place it in the middle of it all with care, lifting the glass cover, revealing it like a magician's final trick. The others lean forward, almost in unison.

16:06 I explained briefly how my niece and I made it together, how the meringue whipped into glossy peaks, how we layered the fruit with careful hands. There's an appreciative pause, followed by whispers of interest. Then they're reaching for plates again, spoons tapping softly, the first cut breaking through crisp meringue to the soft, marshmallowy centre as bytes are taken. The verdict is immediate and unanimous. It's the most interesting thing on the table.

16:47 One friend makes a quiet, pleased sound. Another is already talking about her second slice. When this one is finished, I feel a quiet warmth rising inside me, a soft note of satisfaction. Not just that it tastes good, but that's something made with so much joy is now being shared with others. I make an unnecessary mental note to tell my niece how well it went over, and I can already picture her delight that our laughter and pride in the kitchen carried in to this moment. Here under the Willow trees beside the river. I wish you sweet dreams.