Thursday, July 23, 2009

Sitting on the porch

I am sitting in my new office on the second floor of our brand new building. I love my new office and my window. After sharing an office for almost six years in less than optimal conditions---I truly appreciate the space, cleanliness and calm. I feel like I have died and gone to office heaven!

As I look out my window, there is a house across the street from me that takes me back to Spottsville almost 50 years ago. I go back to a simpler time during summer vacations. The thing that keeps prodding that memory is a front porch the entire width of the house with two doors going in to the front of the house. Most especially the freshly dust mopped battleship grey painted wood floor. My grandmother mopped the porch on a regular basis and dust mopped it daily. There is one rug as you step onto the porch and another that leads all the way to the door. NO-ONE enters with their shoes on. The back porch on my grandmother's house was the same as the front, only higher from the ground and just as clean. The children had to be watched carefully to keep us from falling off. Maybe that was just me because of my clumbsiness.

You could sit on the front porch and people would walk down the road and stop---just to talk a spell. The back porch was used to do the laundry with a wringer washer. White clothes were washed first, then light colored, then darker colors and finaly dirtiest work clothes. My grandmother used pant stretchers to keep from ironing pants. They were a pretty cool invention. I don't think she liked ironing any better than I do. We played on the porches. We talked and dreamed on the porches. Nothing was better on a late summer day than swinging on the porch.

There is not a lot of activity on the porch I look at daily. People come and go but don't sit there much. The lady wears "house dresses" that are belted above her belly like my grandmother. Ladies just didn't wear pants much back in my grandmother's day and evidently she like many her age just never felt right in them.

Some day I am going to go visit the lady across the street---clean my shoes off really good ---
and sit for a while---think about the days gone by. Yes someday.....

1 comments:

Mr. Bloggerific Himself said...

Those are some darn fine memories there. Keep your eyes open for a shotgun barrel to start poking out the door on your first visit. Ya never know.



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