Part of my original post didn't come through. The porch ceiling is painted--the pale aqua beadboard ceiling is so beautiful. The mailbox in celadon with white fleur-de-lis is exactly the way we thought it would be. Raleigh got to prime the porch rails and the mailbox. She is so excited to help. Daniel ran off to a Magick card tournament, wisely knowing he would be expected to help. He bought our lunch first, so he's a little bit off the hook. Tom Sawyer would never have snookered Daniel into white-washing that fence.
All of this porch talk reminds me of porches. I remember a couple of line of a poem--don't have a clue who wrote it--"Old men peel like tarpaper/from porches and are gone." All I remember of the poem is loving those lines. Maybe I dreamt it up. I'd surely like to think I did.
I have one porch poem, below:
No comments:
Post a Comment