You're a Piece of Firework

Mark and I took an evening dog walk yesterday in a different direction than usual. We walked past the one other house we seriously contemplated buying when we bought the one we still live in. That was eighteen years ago. and today it's clear that our house is much prettier, our yard is prettier, our house is more aesthetically pleasing. The advantage #2 house has is it's on a nicer street. But if we lived there we wouldn't hear as many firetrucks going past with their sirens blaring the loudest, middle-of-the-intersection blare, and thus get to hear our dogs howl ridiculously in response. Which is one of my favorite things.

We walked past a newish restaurant and a new coffee shop that's supposed to open in the next couple of months. And then a new deli-type place that's also opening soon. It's a real renaissance out here in the Oakdale/Rosemont/USM neighborhood these days!

When we were nearly home, we heard a firecracker that made us jump and sent Clover into a nervous crouch. She's learned over the last couple of weeks that she really really really hates and is deeply fearful of sounds that make her think the world is coming to an end, i.e. fireworks. And someone in our neighborhood apparently has a collection of loud-popping noisemakers that they light off at slow intervals for hours every night. Among other things, this means that Clover has been too scared to go outside and pee after about 7:30 PM. So anyway, as we were walking home, we heard the firecracker party get started, and Mark followed the sound to confront the person. By "confront," I mean he asked the guy (the father of a young child, as it turned out) how many he had left and how long he planned to be making loud nightly noises. The guy was very apologetic. And we didn't hear any more terrifying sounds last night.

After years of wondering what smells so good when I walk past my neighbors' shady garden, I finally figured it out. It's astilbe! I was weeding in my own little garden, and I smelled the heavenly smell, and put my nose in some feathery white astilbe, and there it was. I need to plant more of that stuff.

It's not one of those flowers that only smells good when you stick your nose in it. It perfumes the air around it.