Fun with dry ice

Had a busy weekend. Met a friend for breakfast and farmer-marketry, then watched Tom Perrota interview John Hodgman on Saturday. Tried out a new yoga place Sunday. Did not realize it was the super-sweaty kind, but did OK. Then it was off to the third-annual pumpkin party held at my friend Amelia's. The party started when her daughter was 2. It was loud. By age 3, she was attending a Montessori school and there were more kids and it was louder.

But 4? Four is a MUCH quieter age. I like it. Four-year-olds can also hold more of a conversation and I, like most grown-ups I suppose, am amazed at how adult these tiny creatures can act. While making a princess crown for my friend Walnut, the wee girl next to me piped up, unbidden, "I decided to be Pink Girl today." And pink she was: shirt, pants and shoes. I asked her if it was her favorite color. "No. I like blue. I just got up this morning and said to myself 'It's feeling like a pink day today.'"

(The one thing this year's party lacked was other childless grown-ups. You feel much less strange decorating crowns and cookies amongst a group of four-year-olds and their parents if you've got a partner than you do if you're alone. But at least I'm not a man, because that would have moved my status from slightly odd to very creepy.)

After delivering one crown and two decorated kitty-cat sugar cookies to Walnut (and getting a wonderful scarf in return), I went back to snag a couple of leftover pumpkins. When I arrived, Amelia had D and I hang out on the stairs, for a surprise. Check it out.