A Family Outing

Yes, picnic season is full upon us once again. The Hansoms of John Clayton and numerous other Sherlockian scion societies will be taking their Holmesing out of doors soon. Just what the attraction is about exposing one's food to the elements remains somewhat of a mystery, but out we go, including those of us who would much prefer to remain in a cool basement for the summer's duration. Even Sherlock Holmes must be tempted to take a picnic lunch now and then, and why not? His chosen place of retirement, the downs of Sussex, sounds like the perfect place for an outdoor eating excursion. We know Holmes took up at least one outdoor activity, swimming, after moving to Sussex, so why shouldn't he succumb to the lure of the picnic as well?

Possessed of the place and the desire, whom should the Master of Retired Detectives invite on his outing? Martha, his house-keeper, perhaps. Maybe some of his friends from the school next door. Or possibly even relatives. The family-picnic is a long-standing summer tradition, so maybe even Holmes would give it a try.

At his advanced age, all of Sherlock's forebears are surely dead and buried (with one notable exception we shall come to in a moment). Mycroft remains alive, we should like to think. But if he is still around, would he leave his routine London haunts for a trip all the way to Sussex? And if he did, how much potato salad would Sherlock have to have on hand? Plenty, one would think.

But one visiting brother doth not a picnic make. A few younger, nosier kinfolks are required to make it a real picnic, but where are those two confirmed bachelors going to find kids? One quick trip to the pastiche and scholarship shelves of the Sherlockian library should be enough to answer that question. Suddenly, Sherlock's family picnic goes from a twosome to a small army.

Older brother Sherrinford and younger brother Sigerson are now likely to show up, children and grandchildren in tow. Sisters Sigrina and Violet do likewise. Sherlock's clone-brother Professor Moriarty might get his time machine set to the picnic date and pop in as well. And arriving extremely late-once the sun sets-we can expect Sherlock's vampiric twin brother (not to mention his and Sherlock's vampire father, Radu Dracula). Although not immediately welcome, a vampire is quite the thing to have at a picnic, as his mental control over vermin will clear the picnic grounds of flies, ants, and mosquitoes in seconds.

But Sherlock needn't rely on nieces and nephews to add young blood to the picnic. Some of his own offspring, Nero Wolfe (August Lupa, or whatever name he goes by these days), Scott Adler, Lord Peter Whimsey, or Inspector Stanley Hopkins, surely must have produced scions of their own. Nero Wolfe even had a very attractive adopted daughter, so there is some hope of a third or fourth generation being present, even if they aren't direct blood descendants. And blood is one subject nobody wants to bring up at the Holmes family picnic, considering what a few of the clan may be hoping is on the menu.

That menu we should like to think, would be a gourmet picnicker's delight. Sherlock, we know, had some merits as a housekeeper and cook, skills he surely kept up in retirement. And considering what a picky eater a certain one of his sons is, gastronomical excellence would be a must to get full attendance at the Holmes reunion. But then, who ever heard of a family reunion with bad food?

Once the eating was done, organizing that diverse clan in some manner of outdoor activity would be a real challenge. Volleyball would probably be out -- in fact, such kinsmen as Mycroft and Nero rule out a number of sporting activities. Pistol shooting would seem to be something everyone could get in on, though. Shooting V.R.'s in trees or trying to knock an apple off of Creighton Holmes's head might be just the fun this family needs to help their food digest. On the other hand with such distances to travel, maybe it would be best if some of the family started on their way back to America or Europe after the feast. Nobody seems to spend as much time with their relatives anymore. But at least the Holmeses have the opportunity, like everybody else, to get together now and then -- all three hundred or so of them.

At least they aren't as crowded as the Watsons. With the number of wives and other women from three continents that the man was involved with, they may have to rent Scotland for their get-together.

(Printed in Plugs & Dottles, July 1986)