..and marathon croquet match. That's how my offspring spent their Saturday evening. Wearing ridiculously glamorous clothes (hers were white, with a lovely hat to match; his were ridiculously film noir ala Woody Allen glam), sipping ridiculously glamorous beverages and rubbing elbows with impossibly glamorous others. They spent the day shopping vintage stores in Manhattan, found very cool outfits, then took a train north to the pahty. They had a ball. They looked...amazing. The Western sibs that took New Yahk by storm? In the West, we (empty) nested. And spent time with old friends. The friends we knew before we were a married couple. The friends whose wedding we attended, and the first we invited to ours. The friends who were there when I came down with what we thought was bronchitis, but turned out to be early mommyitis. Special friends. Old friends. Good friends. The kind that have known us forever, and we them, and we're closer than ever. Which is saying something ...