Mon chéri.

Two words that translate, quite simply, as my darling - but carry far more weight than that. They’re whispered rather than announced. Romantic without being syrupy. Affectionate, playful, intimate. The sort of phrase that feels handwritten in the corner of a letter, not printed on a banner.

Winter picnics get an unfair reputation.

Too cold. Too damp. Best left until May.

But January picnics, done properly, are some of the most memorable of all.

They’re not about bare grass and frozen fingers. They’re about