In some DC neighborhoods, discontinued call boxes have been refurbished with fun art or dioramas in them, but our area, being less funky than those neighborhoods, include instead interesting facts of local historical relevance. The one by our house talked about a would-be assassin who died in a tree in our neighborhood (by his own folly, I believe).

Well, this morning, Rudi and I were racewalking to Krispy Kreme when I noticed something sitting in ours. (Our call box; not our tree!) I stopped to investigate and was surprised to discover that it was something of mine!

The butterfly pin has been pinned to my jean jacket for months, but apparently earlier this week (Tuesday or Wednesday, I’d have to guess), it must have popped off — possibly catching on the strap of my bag.

The pin is a nice one — I get compliments whenever I wear it — so I was particularly surprised when it was just sitting there. Not only had the person who found it not taken it, but neither had anyone else who passed it by in the 2-3 days since I’d dropped it.

I love my urban neighbors.

My folks have sold their co-op and spent the last three days down here packing up the rest of their belongings. This marks the formal end of their 14-year bi-state existence and I am remarkably happy for them that they finally get to exist in just one place.

Mind you, they still need to drive back up to Connecticut and to unload the car and the truck. But the apartment is empty and the keys have been handed over. Now that they’ve made it past the closing, there is time for closure.

Their time down here was good for them. D.C. afforded them some fantastic opportunities they never would have had if they’d remained in Connecticut all this time. But now I think it’s better for them to have a place where they can spread out and enjoy time with hobbies, home and garden, and each other (and with Gramma, who will move in later this year). I’m sure some concerns exist for them as they embark upon the next stage of their lives, but the journey seems to have been a good one so far, setting a positive example for Josh and me.

I did just want to take a minute to thank Hod, a family friend since I was a little girl, who drove all the way down here just to help Dad with the heavy things. Since I would have been hard-pressed to lift and tote with quite the same good graces Hod approaches life with, I was remarkably grateful for his presence. Thank you.

You ain’t got nothing on Jesus.

Check out “What’s On Jesus’ iPod? / Protest anthems, Zeppelin, gospel, classical and, of course, Nine Inch Nails. And, yes, Jesus does P2P,” a fantastically funny column by Mark Morford of the San Francisco Gate.

(I love the mention of Three Dogs’ Night’s “Joy to the World,” a family favorite growing up.)

I think Dar Williams’ “The Christians and the Pagans” would make the cut.

As would some of the Nields and Roche sisters’ harmonies when they’re right on.

Harry Chapin’s whole collection, but especially “Flowers Are Red” (which may actually have a different title).

I’ll think of more, I’m sure. I’ll let you know if I submit any of them to Mark for his follow-up column.

Tickets for Star Wars: Episode Three — Revenge of the Sith went on sale today at Loews Theatres, and the exciting news in D.C. is that it will be showing at the Uptown.

For those who aren’t familiar with it, the Uptown is an old-fashioned one-screen theater, complete with balcony, curved screen, and velvet curtain. Moviegoers get very grumpy when the best films don’t show there and The Interpretor had opened there recently, so we were a little concerned.

So as soon as I discovered SWIII would be showing there, Rudi snapped up tickets. We’ve been to blockbusters there early in their run before, so we will be better prepared this time — we’re planning a picnic to eat on the sidewalk lining Connecticut Avenue. Any Star Wars-appropriate fare we should consider? We’ll have some time, since the show starts at 7 p.m., and we’ll be heading there straight from work.

In addition to having tickets in hand for Star Wars, we also have our tickets for The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy for Friday. I haven’t read the Douglas Adams series, but Rudi really loves it and I’m game to go join the party Rudi’s organizing to see it at the Georgetown Loews. I’ll report back here over the weekend about how a non-fan feels about it.

Our neighborhood has a lot of restaurants. Because of that, we also tend to have wild cats (the restaurants leave scraps out for them). Earlier this week, Rudi and I discovered we had kittens a block from the burrow — four of them.

Today, as I was walking back from the wine shop, I happened to glance up as I was passing a neighbor’s house and noticed a cat on the stoop. Looking closer, I realized it wasn’t one cat; it was five cats — the four kittens and their mom.

Mom was standing watching me as I crossed the street to get a closer look. The kittens weren’t paying any attention to me. They were too busy trying to nurse. Eventually the mama cat sat down, which made the kittens happier. And finally she just sort of toppled over to allow the kittens easier access. But she never broke eye contact.

When Rudi went to move the car a little while ago, he saw them back under their regular bush.

How many cats in the hand are five cats in the bush worth? I don’t know, but four kittens nursing on a front stoop are worth quite a bit of enjoyment.

I stumbled across Clare’s site, Three Beautiful Things, last week and it strikes me that if I stopped to write down the things I noticed I might appreciate life just a tad more. So in that vein:

1. Pink flowers — The pink dogwood at the corner of the Moroccan embassy is blooming. Like the magnolia trees three weeks ago, it looks like tons of pink butterflies have alighted on the tree and it makes my walk to the Metro much more pleasant.

2. A cup of tea — I didn’t have time to brew a whole pot of tea this morning and the regular tea bags I have are meant for more than one cup. So I pulled down the tin of Earl Gray tea bags Gramma gave me a while back. It’s been a while since I had a cup of Earl Gray and I had forgotten how much I enjoy a well-made blend. Some blends incorporate too much bergamot, but this one was just right.

3. A chilly cat — Jeremiah, our black-and-white cat, has been on the peck recently and has been a bloody pain in the neck, blocking our other two cats’ ways, chasing after them, and just generally tearing up the place. But at night he curls up on us, balanced on both our hips. And in the morning, he is generally curled up next to my stomach. And this morning, when I needed to be getting up from my chair and getting ready for work, he came and sat on my lap and gave me such a look that I had to sit for a few more minutes just to not disrupt his nap.