goose song: let’s picnic

two new quilts and that one time we went canoeing

I was just reminiscing about one of my most memorable picnics yesterday: it was my birthday, and Michelle was going to take me out in their canoe to a special spot on the reservoir and we were going to have our packed lunch and a bubbly drink and listen for loons. Osa was with us and the rest of the children at school, and we suited up in our life jackets and set out on a brisk early-November paddle. On the way out to the picnic spot we admired the silhouette of mountaintops that resembled a woman in repose and lauded the beautiful weather and I can be quoted having said things such as: “Maybe I’ll get a canoe too and we’ll take trips with the kids this summer!” and “I think I could be a boat person!”

We spread out our picnic blankets and ate our lunch. Michelle brought my favorite sweet potato and black bean burritos she makes and we drank mimosas out of half pint jars. The plates were brought from home and there was banana bread wrapped in a kitchen towel. We didn’t hear any loons but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and we wore sweaters and we weren’t cold.

After lunch we packed up and returned to the canoe. Noticeably breezier now, we got in and set off toward where we’d begun. Quickly we realized we were not dealing with the same conditions we had had an hour before on our first leg - the wind was picking up, and with it the lake was getting choppy. We paddled on, making progress that felt a little more hard-won, still mostly getting where we needed to go. Several minutes passed like this and then the wind got windier. We were now fighting to keep the boat going in the right direction, and I was becoming increasingly certain I was not, in fact, a boat person. By the time we realized we needed abandon our route in favor of getting to shore as quickly as possible, the canoe was being blown entirely sideways and the waves were licking up the sides and splashing in and causing a rock so aggressive I can still feel my stomach do an anxious backflip just remembering the acuteness of that tilt and our uncomfortably close proximity to that cold November water. We veered toward the shore, paddled hard to land, and gratefully climbed out of the boat, gathering up our lovely picnic that would now become our cross to bear as we made our way up a steep incline toward the trail around the reservoir to walk back to the car. The walk felt long and cold though we laugh now that it really probably wasn’t that far - with a picnic on our backs and a two-year-old under my wing and the fading adrenaline of a near-capsize, it was an odyssey. When we were safely back in the comforting enclosure of the green Subaru, the relief was strong and hard. We were half-anxious, half-happy, half-wet and half-dry. We checked the weather later and learned the wind had gone from 8 to 18 knots in the hour we were having our picnic. Michelle and her family went back three days later on her own birthday and had to hike in to get the boat and paddle back to the car, and you won’t be surprised to read that I haven’t been in a canoe since. But gosh, what a nice picnic that was.

Michelle sent me this pic from our fateful picnic, and lo and behold my picnic quilt!

While that picnic stands out for both its thoughtfulness and the added, um, adventure - me and the boys picnic all the time. Nothing fancy or special, just a blanket and a meal and usually no shoes on. I remember mother’s day donut picnics by the river when Henry was small, driving to a different covered bridge each year for the absolute vibes of it all. When we have time to kill around town between school events or before baseball practice, find us pulling out the picnic quilt and having a snack in the grass. All summer long we’ll make a weekly trip to our local state park lake and spread out the PQ for bread and cheese and hummus and watermelon. At home we have a picnic table to eat summer meals at, but when I want to dress it up for an outdoor dinner, I throw that picnic quilt right on top like a tablecloth. Picnics are a woven-in part of our family culture and I am so happy we’re back in their perfect season.

If you don’t know what makes a picnic quilt a Picnic Quilt, let me tell you what I do:

First, I choose a design that is both beautiful and interesting and also not too small and detailed. I want the seams to lay nice and flat so you can set yourself and your plates on top and it all feels smooth. I do not batt the quilt, but instead I lay the quilt top down on a large, soft, cotton canvas drop cloth which provides a nice heavy drape and makes the quilt easy to fold up and carry. I tie the quilt to the drop cloth using a traditional tying technique and cotton thread, and then I use the drop cloth to create a self-binding for the quilt. Added all together, this makes for a PQ that is pleasant to look at, comfortable to use, and durable and un-precious in its utility.

The two I’ve been working on this month are a new design that checks all the PQ boxes, a joyful and classic pinwheel pattern to picnic on. Both colorways include a palette of both naturally dyed and conventionally dyed colors on a cotton-linen blend, and both will make perfect companions for lake days, beach evenings, river mornings, soccer practices, camping trips, and sitting in the grass right outside your own back door.

Over the next week I’ll get both quilts tied and you’ll find them in my shop as soon as I do. If you’d like to reserve one before it goes live, please reach out and we’ll chat! Or if you want to order one in your own favorite picnic colors, I have made a handful of these as custom orders and I love to hear again and again how much folks love to use them. I hope to make a few more this summer from my work table by the goose coop, and I know for sure my own will be getting plenty of use when my work is through.

Wishing you all a picnic-weather weekend -

warmly,

Jessica

PS this week while I quilt I’ve been listening to Sally Rooney’s book Beautiful World, Where are You? and as with all of Sally Rooney’s work, I’m enjoying it. Next I’ll be looking up Go as a River by Shelley Read on the recommendation of a very trusted friend, and I started but haven’t finished Virginia Woolf’s The Waves. Those three will carry me into the next month, and I’ll let you know what I listened to during strawberry season when we meet again at the end of June.