Yesterday I went running through my neighborhood. My neighborhood would surprise you. It’s a geographic anomaly as it is 20 minutes from anywhere in the valley. True. It has tall, tall trees that shade parts of the street. It’s old, compared to the rest of the valley. I can tell that most of the houses have been redone, like ours. As I jog by I wonder what color bathrooms each house had. Ours had a pink toilet with a pink bathtub in one, and a yellow toilet with a yellow shower in the other. My neighbor once had a seafoam green bathroom. I know this because one day I saw that lovely throne sitting on the sidewalk, ready to be taken away. But I digress. I think it’s cool that there are so many people that have redone their homes. My neighborhood is a lovely little sanctuary in the middle of a bustling town. As I went running, the clock struck nine o’clock and the church around the corner played a tune with its bells. I loved it. If you were on the busy streets just a block away you never would have heard it. In the middle of our crazy city our tiny little inner city neighborhood is peaceful, and quiet, and every now and then, gets a song.