Front porches

I was born in a small town in north-central Illinois.  The railroad splits it north and south.  We lived on the north side, but truly there wasn't much difference on which side of the tracks you lived.  We were all neighbors.  We all had front porches.

There is a song about wishing the world had a front porch.  I think that's how it goes.  Anyway, I ran across this old picture of my grandfather, my aunt and my grandmother sitting on the front porch of my childhood home there on N. Center Ave.  This was many years before I was born.  Lolly still lived there and so did my dad, Bill, and his little sister Pearl.  Nell was married and gone to Kewanee by this time I imagine.

I love this picture.  I remember that porch.  We played on it when it was raining.  We sat there and waved to people going by.  We hollered at our friends to stop and visit for awhile.  But mostly we just sat and talked.  Or at least the grown-ups did.  

I had many a doll tea party on the porch.  Nina has the table and chairs now.  It was a small version of a table and chairs you often found in drug stores and cafes...an ice cream set, is what we always called it.  Four chairs.  Room for me and three of my best friends.  Or one friend and two of our dolls.  Or just me and three dolls.  Tea served in the Blue Willow tea set I loved.  Maybe a cookie or two.  But always tea.  Soft summer breezes blowing across the yard.  Mowers making that swish-swish sound of blades moving rapidly.  No one had a power mower back then.  Only the old fashioned reel-type ones.  No gas.  Just arm and leg power.

How peaceful it would be if we could make people in charge of our rag-tag world sit down and sip a little coffee or tea on the front porch.  Get to know one another.  Share ideas.  Or just sit and enjoy the view of people peacefully passing by.  Stop and wave.  Share a joke.  Be friends.

What a wonderful place our world would be...with a front porch.

Feeling Spring

As I tell my friends, I have wintered well.  In fact, TOO well.  It seems as if ever since Thanksgiving, my will power and get-up-and-go have disappeared.  Added pounds and lack of exercise have not helped my mood.  

But today, yes, today I laced up my hiking boots and made a trip down over the north-facing field, into the woods.  The sky was that unbelievable robin's egg blue.  Wispy clouds looking like the smoke I used to see as the trains would pull into station in my hometown.  I wondered if there might be a celestial locomotive up there in the sky, chuff-chuff-chuffing away.

This morning I got up early.  Early enough to see the sliver of moon in the eastern sky.  Did you see it?  It was marvelous.  I went out on the porch and stood by the railing, listening for turkey gobbling.  I didn't hear a sound, but Andy when he went out a few minutes later, heard several down in the southeast...probably in our neighbor's field.  That time of year.  Birds finding places to build nests, little critters ready to make forays out of their safe holes and into the bright sunshine.

In my trip down the hill I had to be careful.  Lots of hidden rocks and holes down there, up above our creek.  I can see my neighbor to the north's house.  Later on, when the trees leaf out, all of that will be hidden from me.  I love the sycamore trees down in the bottom.  Oh to be a bird and fly off my hill to scope out the scenery in the valley!

Trees have minuscule buds on them now.  Spring wild flowers will be popping their heads up out of the leaf piles before long.  I explore all the nooks and crannies where I might see a little sign of bloom but I am too early up here on the hill.

Turning to go back up to the road I discover that I have ventured down below the fence.  This may be trouble for me.  With a compromised knee and an artificial hip I have to be careful about climbing and stretching beyond my limits.  I am glad there is no one to see me on hands and knees, kneeling as I push down the barb wire and gingerly shift my weight over and onto the other side of the fence.  What a joke!  Glad that I made it without falling on my face.  I probably would still be there trying to get up when lunch time rolled around.

Walking out in the open, back up to the house, I turn around to take in that gorgeous view of Caney that I love so well.  

Yes, spring is here.  Or almost.  And I am feeling it.