The Land of Porch

Ivan periodically exhibits a tyrannical streak. The other day I noticed Molly was hanging out inside on a beautiful day. The door to the screened porch was open. Odd. Then I noted that Ivan had chosen a particularly uncomfortable lounging spot right in the crack of the propped door...so anyone who dared to pass would have to step over him.

Cruel, cruel kitty.

Having the porch screened in has added a new dimension to our lives. It used to be Molly's domain, and still is in the evening when the door is closed but she is clipped out, lounging on her bed. She seems to enjoy having the cats wander out during the day, except if they express interest in her food bowl.

I have my rocker, and a few extra chairs in case someone comes by. The rocker was my ex's, and I feel a bit of a bond with it, because surprisingly, he left it behind. I found it in the barn and figured it may as well rot used on the porch than rot forgotten in the barn. As an antique, it should be safely in a house.

It's where I have my coffee in the morning (bundled in a sweatshirt this past week), where I read in the evening with my glowing Kindle, and sometimes where I bring my laptop to work on a cloudy day when there is no glare. I can gaze down over my wide front lawn, and watch my neighbors take their long rambling walks down the road. Yesterday, two horses came by with their riders. I love my porch and rocker, with Molly standing guard.

Two weeks ago I was scrolling through the furniture section of Craiglist. Without TV, it is my only entertainment.

I clicked on "arts and crafts rocker" and blinked in astonishment.

There was my rocker. Dirt cheap. The finish was more red, and in better shape. I didn't even stop to think. I fired off an email. Sadly I received the reply that he was showing it to someone that afternoon. Oh well. A matched set was not meant to be. Later, however, he emailed back. The woman had admired it, hemmed and hawed about her money situation, and ultimately did not take it.

I met him in the Walmart parking lot and learned that he had refinished the piece himself a few years before. He picked it up, painted black, at a garage sale. I can't begin to imagine all the work that must have gone into the chair, stripping off all that paint from all that decorative wood.

So now the porch is home to two beautiful chairs (click the photo for a closer view). Feel free to come sit in one.

If Ivan will let you.