Let’s go on a picnic after church.
That’s the sort of invitation our family accepted once or twice per summer. (My father was not fond of eating outside. Army influence?)
The menu varied a little by how far ahead the plans were made. Fried chicken? Thick sandwiches? Baked beans? Potato salad? Chips? (They were a real treat.) Cake or pie? Lemonade?
Our picnics often took place at a wayside rest in view of Lake Pepin — part of the Mississippi River between MN and WI. Visiting between families. Perhaps a footrace or two. A walk down to the water — watch for rattlesnakes.
This picnic shelter, located in a county park, may be reserved for families and groups. Shade. A little rain protection. A grill. A trash can. Tables and seating. Let the children run — a playground is not far out of the photo. Older folks may prefer to toss a ball or take a stroll.
Detective Cal Collins is called to respond to a situation in a county park more than once in the later-in-life romance, Fine Lines. Who would want to harm a picnic shelter? Good thing a jogger found the fire before it got to the roof. Check out the book at the pre-order link: https://bit.ly/49FtvjF





















