Easter approaches and I remember my youth and the way we spent Easter Sunday. We would picnic in beautiful places around England. Sometimes we’d travel for a couple of hours just to find the perfect spot. One my dad’s favorite places to sit and eat his Easter Sunday picnic was Blanchland. We’d spread out a ‘picnic blanket’ and enjoy our ham sandwiches while we watched the sea of Daffodils moving in the breeze. England isn’t renowned for warmth at Easter, so a steaming thermos of tea was a welcome accompaniment. I wish my mam and dad were still around, I’d love to share one more Easter with them. This is for them.