I have journaled off and on (more off then on) over the past 4 years and do it because I love to write and I love sharing who I am. I also feel to some extent it's a theraputic way to get things off my chest. Whether or not the reader wants to read it or not, I put it out there. I haven't found too many people who won't deliberately read what I write. Yet. But if you are reading this far, chances are, hopefully, you'll keep on reading about me.
I have no idea where this blog (journal) will take you as the reader, or how revealing I might get, but my thoughts, if anything, should prove entertaining. I suppose if I stick with it, it might grow into a Great American novel. No doubt one comedic in nature, if time allows me the opportunity, and if I am able to find the right words. I never lack for words, trust me.
I actually had another journal here, but I found it boring. I hope this new start yields better results. Perhaps the view of my life will be better from my front porch. I hope you join me on the my front porch.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
My Front Porch
My front porch is actually small. It's big enough to hold a "Welcome" mat, my decrator flag, and a cute little planter. It is also home to spiders and other assorted insects that seem to like it there. Oh, and my very important Feng Shui wind chimes; metal ones, not wooden, which are supposed to bring me something good, according to my fengshui expert. What 'good' is, I am not sure of, but I'll never chance it and put wooden ones there.
It's a place to sit on the two front steps and watch the traffic go by. We live on a rather busy street, so I never have to wait for a passing car, bicycle, or pedestrian. The occasional dog gets a walk along the street as well. It's a nice neighborhood. I have large oaks in the front yard, so my porch steps are shaded, making it a cool place to rest.
I have always loved front porches. The house I grew up at had a large wrap around front porch that served as a place to play with, and entertain family and friends. I remember it was a safe place, especially during fierce thunderstorms. We could sit all cozy in our parents laps, huddled under a light cotton blanket, and watch the lightening flicker over the lake we grew up on. It was a place to have meals on, especially during hot summer days, long before we could ever consider AC in the house. But with the summer breeze that came up from the lake, it never really mattered.
Our house and the front porch drew people to it like a magnet, especially during the summer months. Whether it was the neighborhood kids, family, or the cop on duty that day, it was never empty, and never alone. When I see old pictures of that porch, I can easily be over come with old memories; good ones. There are those who say a house is merely a shell, and that what makes a house a 'home' is the inside or the occupants. To some extent this is true, however when I think of all the fun we had on that porch, that shell had it's role.
It's a place to sit on the two front steps and watch the traffic go by. We live on a rather busy street, so I never have to wait for a passing car, bicycle, or pedestrian. The occasional dog gets a walk along the street as well. It's a nice neighborhood. I have large oaks in the front yard, so my porch steps are shaded, making it a cool place to rest.
I have always loved front porches. The house I grew up at had a large wrap around front porch that served as a place to play with, and entertain family and friends. I remember it was a safe place, especially during fierce thunderstorms. We could sit all cozy in our parents laps, huddled under a light cotton blanket, and watch the lightening flicker over the lake we grew up on. It was a place to have meals on, especially during hot summer days, long before we could ever consider AC in the house. But with the summer breeze that came up from the lake, it never really mattered.
Our house and the front porch drew people to it like a magnet, especially during the summer months. Whether it was the neighborhood kids, family, or the cop on duty that day, it was never empty, and never alone. When I see old pictures of that porch, I can easily be over come with old memories; good ones. There are those who say a house is merely a shell, and that what makes a house a 'home' is the inside or the occupants. To some extent this is true, however when I think of all the fun we had on that porch, that shell had it's role.
The furniture that adorned the porch was all collected from "junk days" around the small town we lived in and refurbished by mom and dad. It was comfy and old, and added a certain charm to that big old porch. Everyone always had a seat and there always seemed to be room for one more. Always.
They say a house has character and that character is an extension of its owners. I think this is true. My parents always extended an open arm to those who came to sit and rest on that porch. I can remember the tinkling sounds of all mom's windchimes scattered around the porch. I can see the American flag blowing in the breeze. I remember the love that enveloped the house like that porch, whose wrap around structure was more than just a piece of the shell.
My grandparents also had a big front porch that I remember was more of a "fort" than a front porch. We launched home made rockets over the rails towards unsuspecting neighbors. Of course, we got into trouble at times, but what fun we had getting there! My grandmother had a glider couch that we would lay on, while she read to us, eventually sending us off to a restful slumber. The glider still exists, and now graces my brothers front porch. New homes today don't have porches like we did as kids. But if you are lucky, you might own a deck out back that can be just as restful, and adventurous as a front porch. I'm lucky. I have both and I can't imagine being without either one.
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