Reflections In My Mirror–Granny’s Front Porch Part 1


To this very day I love to sit on a porch and enjoy the pleasant feeling that seems to be there.  Maybe I just remember Granny’s Front Porch.

There were always two porch swings, one for each end of the porch because everyone liked to “swing.”  The old swings would get a fresh coat of green paint each spring, but granny never sanded the rough spots.  She just painted over them year after year.  The surface was lumpy to say the least.

I can still remember those ugly little tables which were made out of cris-crossed twigs and painted green.  Some door to door salesman sold them to granny and she thought she had a real bargain. These little tables sat on either side of the front door and always had a pot of “snake plants” in the large round green pots.

Now, I have never known what anyone could see in a “snake plant” with those long blades that never bloomed or, as a matter of fact, they never seemed to grow.  Each spring they were the same size.  Granny’s pride was that she had been able to keep these plants for the last 10 years.

There were always long green flower boxes on the porch banisters that were loaded with petunias, geraniums and begonias.  Each morning granny would make her rounds to all of the boxes to pinch off the dead blooms and look for the new blooms that were about to burst open.  She would always have her little bucket and cup to water each box.

The floor of that old porch was painted with battleship grey paint that was as rough as the old green swings.  Granny always complained each summer because winter had once again taken it’s toll on the paint.  She would just sweep the porch as best she could, get out the paint, and put on another coat of paint.

The front porch was the gathering place when bean stringing time rolled around.  We lived near granny and we would gather and help her string beans.  In turn, everyone helped us string beans too.  We always talked about the happenings or the day and would guess how many quarts of beans we would get out of this bushel.  For some reason, I believe we thought that by some miracle some bushels contained more than others.  I remember this as a time of laughter and fun, not work.  Grandpa would always be there and would usually try to tell on of his little off color jokes which granny disliked.

To be continued in Part II……….stay tuned.


One response »

  1. Love your site. Yes, each day is new and I’ve learned taht Happiness is my choice. God already determined our days would be filled with Joy (Jesus in us) and now it’s up to us. Enjoying the beauty of new life that reminds us that time is moving forward…grab each day, each moment with zest. “This is life, enjoy the ride” is what I’ve had in my email reply for the past 15 years….

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