In Which Our Heroine Goes to the Ball, Not the Ballgame

11 December 2005

Today I went with Sonya and the girls to the Eighth Floor Auditorium. I love the Eighth Floor Auditorium. It's one of the Minneapolis Things I missed so much when I was away: Dayton's (now Marshall Field's, soon to be Macy's -- but Dayton's, Dayton's, dammit!) sets up a story in detailed, usually moving dioramas in a huge area on its eighth floor. You go up and up and up the escalators to the eighth floor and wait in line and walk through the story. At the end, you eat gingerbread and give the red-hots they use for eyes and buttons to anyone foolish enough to take red-hots.

It is awesome, and this year it's Cinderella. They've had Babar, Snow White, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, all kinds of things. It's extremely pink and fluffy and girly, but there are neat tricks, and they've gone back to detailed displays. The Spartan ones just didn't really fit the medium: walking through a children's storybook is not a minimalist experience, generally.

The gingerbread isn't free, and neither is paying for parking. But the rest is. Go, if you're here. It's great fun. (Do try not to go right after a Vikings game.)

We had planned on a few more people at the Eighth Floor than Sonya and the girls and me, but involving toddlers in one's social schedule requires flexibility, and asking a toddler to wait in line from the fifth floor up might not be optimal.

I'm done with my Christmas cards for the year, so that's another holidayish thing done with for the year. I have a few medium-sized gaps in my Christmas shopping, as well as a few smaller ones, but I think we're mostly on top of that. Lists, you know. Lists are our friends. Lists may not make the world go round, but they certainly help me hang on while it goes.

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