I really love my house. Not only is it just a cool space, with brick walls, funky stairs, a skylight and a back yard, but one additional feature that I ALWAYS forget about until days like Memorial Day, Independance Day, etc. is that my house is on a parade route.

No foolin!

How cool is that?

Typically, my discovery goes a little somthing like this: I walk out the front door, and there’s a marching band walking by! Very Monty Python, if you ask me. There are always gaggles of kids in sparkly outfits waving pompoms, District and church choirs, people running for some office or another, and groups of people called, “The Supreme Brotherhood of the 3rd Eyeball” or something else equally mysterious and obscure like that.

I especially love the wee kids who choose to play tuba or some other equally self-dwarfing instrument.

Anyway, those parades function splendidly as an unofficial calendar of major holidays – thank goodness, or I’d never know when to put my white shoes away….

Not sure what the actual route ever is, but stand at the intersection of Vermont Ave and 11th Streets NW on any given holiday, and don’t forget to look out for the little guy with the tuba.