Down on Deer in the Headlights St.

D is the side street that takes me home.  D, and nothing else.  Family member to, of course, E, F, C, B, and A.

This house used to be my Pa and Meemaw's.  Meemaw still owns it, but has graciously allowed us to nest here.  The house should be in a movie; it's painted green, square, surrounded by holly hocks, which I used to eat as a child, lily of the valleys, peonies, hibiscus, hen and chicks, clematis, tulips, lily trees, lemon mint, which I love to roll in my hands, and lilacs; there is a dilapidated shed with a black raspberry patch; green onions grow by a bolder.  Chain link fence.  Carpeted front porch.

David and I lay a quilt out and picnic, cloudgaze, and joke about taking a silver Sharpie to the green street sign and renaming D St.

Dinosaur St.
Danger St.
Ditsy St.
Doofus St.
Die Hard St.
Deoxyribonucleic acid St.
Darling St.
Daisy St.
Dukes of Hazard St.
Duh St.
Ding-Dong the Witch is Dead St.
Dig It St.
Dance St.
Dodo the Hobbit St.
Dingo St.
Deaf St.
Denno Coil St.
Digital Camera St.
Dorky Do St.
Depp St.
Dwight Shrute St.
D.A.R.E. St.
Disgusting St.
Deal or No Deal St.
Doodle St.
Darling, I Do St.

And we just sing, doo doo do do d-do d-do doo! Doo doo do do d-do d-do doo! Doo doo do do d-do d-do dooooo! (Duet Don't miss it!)