I gripe about my neighborhood occasionally -- the students, the corner bars, the closeness of the other houses, the lack of sufficient dirt to play in, the rules against chickens -- but then spring comes and I go outside and I forget all that.
I live in a pretty place. Quirky, but pretty, especially when everything starts blooming after a long season of gray.
The tulips are so pretty. Mine aren't up yet. Just the crocuses.
I remember seeing that car in the neighborhood and I moved out in 2004!!
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