Porch Time

I love my porch. Looking at it one would be hard pressed to discern it from any other porch.  2x4's...wood rails...concrete...couple a chairs...ordinary.  Is it really ordinary?  To me it isn't. In fact my porch can be a magic place, a special place. What makes it magic I don't know. Maybe it's because I feel peaceful sitting out there. My mind wanders. Never so far that it hasn't come back - though there are those of you who have thought more than once that I lost it...it's never lost, just takes frequent vacations. 

At times my porch would be an escape portal.  I could walk out of the house and be a recluse, a misanthrope. I do like people it's just that sometimes, well,  I don't - I like you though and not just because you are reading my blog!  Don't you ever feel like you just want to be alone, left alone, not bothered, not spoken too? I do. Granted it's not very often but I admit there are those times. Often I will sit out there and read. In the summer I get the evening sun cutting across my left shoulder so I pop over to the other chair to catch some shade. I would watch my son mow the lawn. You have to keep an eye on those things. Proper mowing requires once around the perimeter then crisp straight strips back and forth, overlapping each time by 50% to ensure a clean cut. Then of course the next mowing will be diagonal, back to straight, etc. You also can't mow too fast or you pull the grass rather than cut it. My observation of the process would slightly annoy Taylor. I could tell because he wouldn't look directly at me but I would see the slight shift of his eyes as he went by. He'd do a great job 99% of the time. Once in a while I'd see a few blades sticking up and he'd need to take another pass with the mower.

Other times I would sit out there and just let thoughts roll in and out. It's amazing how I could work my way though exactly how I would manage my lottery winnings should my numbers suddenly hit. Some of the porch memories never leave me. I remember sitting out there November 29th 2009 at 4:30 in the morning. It was the day of my first ever half marathon. It was raining. I knew Albert would be coming to pick me up and that was that - I was going to run a half marathon. I was nervous, maybe a little scared. I ran through the race in my mind, comforted that Albert would be by my side the entire time - I'd be ok, safe.  Sitting on the porch during a rain storm fills me with such an incredible feeling. I love it! Don't come talk to me however, just let me escape in the moment. Listening to the rain hit the leaves on the plants, watching them bounce off the street, even hearing the water roll down the roof and through the gutter. Rain can be good. Now don't even get me started about watching the snow fall.

Have I mentioned yet my attire?  Oh heavens, forgive me. I wear my bathrobe. Always in the morning but honestly most of the time I'm out there. Sometimes it's cold enough that I wear a sweatshirt under it. Maybe a hat if it's really cold. I sit out there all bundled up and drink coffee. Paradise. It's not like I'm naked underneath. I'll wear my pajamas. Neighbors drive by and glance over. I simply raise my cup of coffee to them and smile. Surely they think I'm crazy or just a little 'off'.  I am not alone in this regard however. Sharon used to live a couple houses down and more than once would call and tell me she was coming down to have coffee. There she be, walking down the sidewalk coffee in hand, wearing her white bathrobe and pajamas. Her hair....her hair would be sticking up and out in so many directions that Vidal Sassoon would have turned and ran. She didn't care. Neither did I. It was coffee time, porch time. We'd shoot the shit and laugh. I remember one time Sue opened the front door, looked at us and just closed it without a word. I'm sure we were quite the sight!

I wouldn't trade my porch for anything, nor the memories I have sitting out there. Tomorrow I'll make a latte from my new machine, toss on the bathrobe, and ease into my chair. I already know in fact what I'll be thinking about. It'll be a good day. My porch is always open. Come by any time. We'll talk, have a coffee, or maybe just enjoy each others company in silence -  letting our minds wander, dream, unwind.  My porch is your porch, bathrobe optional - PJ's not.