I've lived in my current apartment for more than 3 years now. For me that's got to be some kind of record. One of the all-time best and most fantastic things about this place is an annual event that always catches me by surprise.
The first year I lived here I was enjoying a quiet cool spring Saturday to myself. I'd slept in and was reading a book over a late breakfast at my kitchen table when I became aware of the fact that there'd been some whistles and sirens blaring on the street out front for several minutes. I went to the living room windows and realized I was just in time for a parade celebrating the opening of the Little League season. All the Little Leaguers were in uniform and in this part of the world, all the uniforms are tiny versions of the major league teams. So first there was a fire engine, then a bunch of munchkin Red Sox players, followed by little clumps of tiny Mets, tiny Rangers, tiny Mariners, tiny Cubs, etc., all mixed up with parents and strollers containing future tiny baseball players. I didn't see any tiny Yankees but in this part of the world that makes
perfect sense. They'd never recover from the humiliation. (Yankess = boo-hiss up here. ALWAYS.) The whole thing was wrapped up with one more fire engine and a police cruiser.
The parade only took about 15 minutes to meander down the hill in front of my house. And that was it for that spring. But it came back the next year - surprised me again, of course. I guess I hadn't mentally established the pattern yet. But this year I heard the siren and jumped to the window, fully alert and ready to cheer them on. I even took a picture:
(Dickens was watching with me - that's his ear.)
Go tiny Sox!!