Confessions of a Laundry Faerie: The grown-up playdate

"Playdates" didn't really exist when I was a kid. My sibs and I tended to be pretty free-range compared to kids from more recent generations; we'd come home from school and ask "Can I go over to Amy's house?" and if Mom or Dad knew Amy's family well enough, the answer would be "Sure. Dinner's at 6:00; be home by then." We were responsible for getting transportation to and from the friend's house (usually walking or biking) and for keeping track of time once we got there. And we tended to do things like playing with dolls or card games or puzzles or swinging on the swings at the park or in the back yard (remember, this was the 1970s; the only thing to watch was boring local TV).

Captain Midnight and I learned about playdates when we started taking care of Miss V full-time. The summer before she started school, she kept looking around the neighborhood and asking us "Where is everybody?" and we kept assuring her that she'd meet kids her age as soon as the school year started. But we also kind of wondered where everybody was; kids didn't just ride their bikes around the neighborhood any more. Most kids were either inside playing video games, or their parents had "programmed" their summer schedule -- camps, classes, sports teams, etc. And because kids had so little free time, their parents and guardians would have to schedule dates for their kids to play together. (Yes, I still find that weird.)

Frankly, though, the concept of a playdate -- even if we don't call it that -- makes a lot more sense for adults. There used to be a lot more downtime built into life, so it didn't take much effort for adults to find time to catch up with friends or do something simple and fun together. But just as our world has gotten busier, so have our individual lives. It's hard to find time to spend with friends unless we make concrete plans. (And for introverts, that's hard; we're just as likely to dread upcoming social activities as anticipate them.)

Anyway, all this is just a preface to say that my friend Wendy and I had a grown-up playdate today.

No, we didn't go swing on the swings (although why not, that's still fun!), but we did go to the park.

Specifically, Volunteer Park.

The final Friday of every month is a free admission day at Seattle Asian Art Museum. I hadn't visited in a long time, and it was the first time for Wendy, so we parked near the Black Sun sculpture and headed in.

Hey, it's one of the entrance camels! Hi there, entrance camel!

There's a lot to see in the SAAM, but you're not going to see much of it here. Mostly because I forgot to take many photos. We were too busy happily chatting about things like religion, the varying conceptions of deity in other cultures, how various cultures portray people and animals, and all sorts of other things. We both like to chat, and whenever we get together we do a lot of it.

If you have a chance, though, you should visit the SAAM. The collection is beautiful and often unexpected, and the building itself is an Art Deco masterpiece.

It seems every culture has to contend with damaged sculptures. I'm not sure what happened to the hands of this Buddha.

Fountain sculpture of a meditating figure

It's hard for me to say what I like the most in any art museum. But certain artworks are more compelling to me than others. This sculpture in the fountain court spoke to me particularly strongly.

I mean, it didn't LITERALLY speak to me; that would have been terrifying. But this meditative figure, portrayed as covered in beads of water, probably cold, but nonetheless serene... I don't know. Most days I wish I had this kind of unbreakable calm.

Anyway, one of the temporary installations while we were there featured several kimono.