Nothing says January in the [fancy, schmancy, wealthy, entitled, uppity] part of town where I work, like the smell of sheep poo.
Apparently it's good for the grass.
Of which there is a lot up in them there hills.
There is also a lot of stone and concrete in those many squared footed mansions and given the governor's recent declaration about the state of the state, I think someone should start writing tickets or issuing limits on the amount of liquid that is allowed to water sidewalks and run in huge rivers down the streets in that neighborhood.
This is me and it's another world up there.