Speaking of French Maids, the French call the joy of living, “Joie de Vivre.” With a stick of bread, lump of aged cheese and a vine-ripened tomato, a simple picnic is elevated to an art form.
Voila.
For a real masterpiece, I would opt to elevate this picture-perfect-picnic-of-art-for-moi, with a wine vineyard. Maybe some “tree-sized,” bendy straws for sipping fermented grapes, so I wouldn’t have to move my derriere from its comfy red and white gingham-checked “tablecloth.”




