Fizzy Pop and Lashing of Custard please Mummy

That's my memory of a picinc, a treat, a real day out, crunching the sand through your sandwiches, the flask spilling over and all hell breaking loose before the end of the day.

We have moved on a bit from then. Picnics with my lot are always fun, we love them. I have it down to a fine art now, and I don't think we've spilled a flask in years.

It was a rainless picnic in Princes Street today with the sun trying hard to show itself to help celebrate Oxfam's Be Humankind and a very reasonable turn out. There were salads, sandwiches, cherries and strawberries, with mini cakes to finish off and of course fizzy pop. Ginger beer to be precise. Yum.

The chat was flowing and I heard lots of 'oh yes, I've seen that' or 'I must look up your journal'. I also overheard some serious camera talk which I hoped wouldn't head my way, it was out of my league, although perhaps I could have answered the questions about the satisfaction of a good shutter noise.

I met several people whose journals I have come across, which was lovely. I also met a man who is as famous for his rock buns as he is for his footie training. I last tried one about 6 years ago. He had brought his own homemade scones, jam and cream to the picnic, How wonderful. He even offered to possibly surprise me with a batch of Rock Buns and some Fruit Bush cuttings. Now isn't that so very kind. Thank you EcoDad. What a fun time, now where are Timmy and George, I'm simply dying for some Custard.