We all woke up early this morning and took a hike through a prairie preserve. My husband rode his bike there while AJ and I followed in the car after packing a picnic breakfast that was deplorably healthy � peaches and pears from the farmer�s market, a bag of almonds, walnuts and dried apricots, and yogurt. Oh, and a huge thermos of coffee. We sat reading the Sunday paper and admiring the view while AJ ran laps around the picnic table.

I will be following up this idyllic morning with a trip to Chuck E. Cheese to escort AJ to the fourth birthday party of his friend N. I�m sure that will undo my current Zen feeling about my day. (Serenity now. Serenity now.)

While I await the witching hour, I am puzzling over what to do about an email I received yesterday. A couple of days ago, we got a letter from some friends of the former owner of our house who expressed an interest in possibly buying it. They had wanted to do so when it was on the market before, but they still had kids at home and so it wasn�t the right time. Although I was uncertain about the whole thing, the letter was very polite and non-invasive and, since I know houses sometimes sit on the market for a while here because we�re so far from the city, I thought it wouldn�t hurt to respond, since there is a pretty good chance we�ll be thinking about selling within the next year or two. I got a nice email back, but they asked some questions about whether we�d done any renovations and for some reason, I am not feeling totally comfortable about answering that question. I cannot, however, think of a good reason why I shouldn�t answer it in a vague way. I think I�ll sit on it for a day or two before replying.

And now I must attempt to figure out what the proper attire for an afternoon at Chuck E. Cheese with a bunch of four-year-olds entails. Party dress? Jeans and an �I�m with shortie� T-shirt? A flak jacket? A hazmat suit?

In any case, I�m not anticipating an event like this one (and you should SO click the link). Although I don�t think I�d complain if I got one. AJ might, though. I heard him trying to lull himself to sleep by reciting possible flavor combinations of cake and ice cream. �Chocolate and vanilla, chocolate and chocolate chip, chocolate and chocolate�� He�s a boy after my own heart. Or appetite, anyway.

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