I love my front porch too. It’s calming much like NOT listening to the news. God invented front porches. And we all know that He knows what He’s doing. I hear God’s voice in the neighborhood sounds. Especially the myriad of birds at our feeders. Birds sing God’s praises as do the trees and flowers. The lawn mowers, weed eaters and yard blowers remind me that we’re not alone. ❤️
Thanks for giving us a wave from your front porch Sean!
And listen to your wife, she’s right about rainwater being better for the ferns. Actually it’s better for any plant, potted or not. I can tell a huge difference in the health of my garden after a good rain versus weeks of hose watering.
Ah, one of my favorite pastimes growing up in Birmingham was listening to the grass grow.
And speaking of birds, I recommend the free app Merlin Bird ID; a perfect companion for porch sitting. Not only can you hear them, you can learn who’s talking.
And up here on the prairie, we can hear the corn grow, especially at night, when the rest of our world is quiet. Shhhhh…keep your ear to the ground, 💚🌽💛🌽💚
Awww now - we think Sue’s baby is more than fine/ok! Your tale brought back so many memories of my ancestors’ porches and the good times had there. In our modern subdivision, we do not have a front porch, so we hung a porch swing on the big oak tree out front. It serves its purpose , even enables us short little naps. 😊Thanks!!
I am a proud, bonafide porch sitter…I’m sure people refer to me as that “crazy old woman” who sits on her porch all day long! I watch kids ride their bikes, everyone, suddenly, has a dog to walk, and occasionally a couple will walk by holding hands…my favorite! I highly recommend porch sitting…it’s like going to church on Sunday, except I’m barefooted and the hymns are usually off-key (I can’t sing a lick)!💕
You are beginning to sound like me. And I am old enough to be your dad. On my walk this morning I heard three different roosters calling to each other. They live at least 300 yards apart but they had a nice morning discussion. I miss the newspapers and magazines of my earlier years. My front porch has an assortment of Christmas cactus and things I don't even recognize. But they are pretty.
Now I am a petunia guy. I grow them from seeds. They are everywhere as the seeds scatter with the wind. My grandma had them grow wild around her bird bath. I am now my grandmother. Thank you Sean for the time travel.
I so love this story! I still have a front porch, albeit small, and my 3 year old granddaughter loves it!! In Ocean Springs, Mississippi we have an abundance of sidewalks and bike riders and I love it! And I love reading everything Sue’s boy writes. I think he’s perfect just like he is!! (And don’t tell anyone but I definitely love a nap).
I remember visiting my Granny and Jackadaddy (all the grans called him that) in Old Hickory, TN during summer, and front porch was where everyone gathered, visited, gossiped, told tales and fussed. The ceiling was painted blue, of course. Cardboard church fans was our version of AC, which did not exist. I can't recall living anywhere there was a front porch until I moved where I am, and it's small and unusable due to gnats, mosquitos, and every other flying, biting critter the South can invent. So my project this summer is to screen it in.
You have reminded me of the Old Hickory BBQ restaurants that were in Georgia long ago. Their cooking was so good, and I attribute my live of smoky food to that early exposure.
I grew up in a house that was built in the 1910s, in a small rural mountainous area that was mostly cut off from the world. But we did have trains that traveled through our town; freight trains and passenger trains. In the summertime, I would sit on our wide porch and watch them go by.
When passenger trains slowed down to go through our town, the conductors would invariable hang their heads out of the doorways, watching for obstructions, I would wave at them, and often they would wave back at me. I could see the passengers inside as they traveled on their way to ... gosh... maybe some exotic place for some exotic adventure that was NOT bound up in a small little mountain town where nothing ever happened. I often thought about their lives and tried to imagine what it must be like to board a train and go someplace far away.
Coal mining and timber harvesting were the major economic activities of my small place, and many of the trains were carrying such freight away, like in the John Prine song, "Paradise." Mr. Peabody's coal train has hauled it away... and left graveyards hundreds of acres wide. Today all the coal is gone, and little of the timber is left, and even fewer of the jobs are still there. My little hometown is now on life support, but I reached escape velocity many years ago, and am rarely there anymore to see it now. I hear tell that the moonshine bootleggers have now been replaced by drug dealers, and that deaths from alcohol (liver failure, shootings, suicide) have been replaced by overdoses.
But I also hear that the churches still meet and sing about the Power in the Blood and Marching to Zion.
I used to see all of that from our front porch, and Sean is right. The front porch is a dying American institution. We might do well to bring them back.
We have a porch replica on our house - big enough to sit on and pass out Halloween candy or deliver a package, but too small to really inhabit. There are, however, still neighborhoods here in River City where every house has a porch. Some screened in, others in their original glory, with "gliders" or porch swings and ceiling fans. Festooned with plants in stands and hanging from the eaves and beams. And when I walk through one of those neighborhoods on summer afternoons after lunch, I'll occasionally have to dodge kids on bikes and return greetings from people struggling with whether or not to be neighborly or napping. What a marvelous throwback! Thanks for reminding us all what treasures we have around us!
Another wonderful story my dear friend and keep enjoying your porch swing and bringing us those beautiful written words of yours and I will keep on reading stay blessed friend 🙏
We have a front porch and a back porch. We do porch sittin' on the front porch in the morning and back porch sittin' in the evening because that's where it's coolest in the summer!
Driving in new subdivisions today is a sobering experience. Especially if you mistakenly chose the wrong identical house.
But what really creeps me out - is the fact that there are no people to be seen. I don’t even “see dead people”.
Everyone has been sucked out and the streets are bare. No bikes, toys, or messes. And certainly no porches.
Realizing that everyone is inside - glued to their televisions and mechanical devices, is terrifying to me. We are losing our abilities to communicate.
Carry on, Sean! You have never been more important. 🙏❤️
I love my front porch too. It’s calming much like NOT listening to the news. God invented front porches. And we all know that He knows what He’s doing. I hear God’s voice in the neighborhood sounds. Especially the myriad of birds at our feeders. Birds sing God’s praises as do the trees and flowers. The lawn mowers, weed eaters and yard blowers remind me that we’re not alone. ❤️
I was just thinking the same thing!!
https://gravatar.com/edsartnet
Thanks for your interest. ❤️
https://gravatar.com/edsartnet is a link to my two web publications… thanks for asking. ❤️
Thanks for giving us a wave from your front porch Sean!
And listen to your wife, she’s right about rainwater being better for the ferns. Actually it’s better for any plant, potted or not. I can tell a huge difference in the health of my garden after a good rain versus weeks of hose watering.
I’m with Jamie and you on the rainwater!
I agree! And I try to get my plants out to the walkway when rain is expected.
Yepper!
Ah, one of my favorite pastimes growing up in Birmingham was listening to the grass grow.
And speaking of birds, I recommend the free app Merlin Bird ID; a perfect companion for porch sitting. Not only can you hear them, you can learn who’s talking.
Listen to the grass grow…..like the horse whisperer 😄
And up here on the prairie, we can hear the corn grow, especially at night, when the rest of our world is quiet. Shhhhh…keep your ear to the ground, 💚🌽💛🌽💚
I just watch it grow. I'm very hard of hearing.
Matt, I would crank up the sound for you, if I could 🌽
Love Merlin!
Awww now - we think Sue’s baby is more than fine/ok! Your tale brought back so many memories of my ancestors’ porches and the good times had there. In our modern subdivision, we do not have a front porch, so we hung a porch swing on the big oak tree out front. It serves its purpose , even enables us short little naps. 😊Thanks!!
Thank God you still have a big Oak Tree out front.
Yes, we sure are. We’ve been in this house over 40 years and the tree must be at least half a century or more. It’s a real gift.
I am a proud, bonafide porch sitter…I’m sure people refer to me as that “crazy old woman” who sits on her porch all day long! I watch kids ride their bikes, everyone, suddenly, has a dog to walk, and occasionally a couple will walk by holding hands…my favorite! I highly recommend porch sitting…it’s like going to church on Sunday, except I’m barefooted and the hymns are usually off-key (I can’t sing a lick)!💕
Like your reflections…..I, too, like seeing couples holding hands! 🤗
You are beginning to sound like me. And I am old enough to be your dad. On my walk this morning I heard three different roosters calling to each other. They live at least 300 yards apart but they had a nice morning discussion. I miss the newspapers and magazines of my earlier years. My front porch has an assortment of Christmas cactus and things I don't even recognize. But they are pretty.
Now I am a petunia guy. I grow them from seeds. They are everywhere as the seeds scatter with the wind. My grandma had them grow wild around her bird bath. I am now my grandmother. Thank you Sean for the time travel.
Sean wakes those roosters up every morning!
I so love this story! I still have a front porch, albeit small, and my 3 year old granddaughter loves it!! In Ocean Springs, Mississippi we have an abundance of sidewalks and bike riders and I love it! And I love reading everything Sue’s boy writes. I think he’s perfect just like he is!! (And don’t tell anyone but I definitely love a nap).
I remember visiting my Granny and Jackadaddy (all the grans called him that) in Old Hickory, TN during summer, and front porch was where everyone gathered, visited, gossiped, told tales and fussed. The ceiling was painted blue, of course. Cardboard church fans was our version of AC, which did not exist. I can't recall living anywhere there was a front porch until I moved where I am, and it's small and unusable due to gnats, mosquitos, and every other flying, biting critter the South can invent. So my project this summer is to screen it in.
Thank goodness for cardboard church fans! A child’s accordion-style paper fan works well in a pinch too!
Cindy, those old cardboard church fans are worth a chunk of change now!
Try finding one! Only in an old-style S. GA rural church! They still make them and use them.
Yes! I often use a church fan (new) in the country church I attend.
You have reminded me of the Old Hickory BBQ restaurants that were in Georgia long ago. Their cooking was so good, and I attribute my live of smoky food to that early exposure.
I have a small porch, but even better, I live in the country. Not only do I hear the birds, I can see deer and turkey wander by.
By the way, I agree with Jamie and set my ferns on the steps when I expect rain. God can water better than I.
Yes He can!
I grew up in a house that was built in the 1910s, in a small rural mountainous area that was mostly cut off from the world. But we did have trains that traveled through our town; freight trains and passenger trains. In the summertime, I would sit on our wide porch and watch them go by.
When passenger trains slowed down to go through our town, the conductors would invariable hang their heads out of the doorways, watching for obstructions, I would wave at them, and often they would wave back at me. I could see the passengers inside as they traveled on their way to ... gosh... maybe some exotic place for some exotic adventure that was NOT bound up in a small little mountain town where nothing ever happened. I often thought about their lives and tried to imagine what it must be like to board a train and go someplace far away.
Coal mining and timber harvesting were the major economic activities of my small place, and many of the trains were carrying such freight away, like in the John Prine song, "Paradise." Mr. Peabody's coal train has hauled it away... and left graveyards hundreds of acres wide. Today all the coal is gone, and little of the timber is left, and even fewer of the jobs are still there. My little hometown is now on life support, but I reached escape velocity many years ago, and am rarely there anymore to see it now. I hear tell that the moonshine bootleggers have now been replaced by drug dealers, and that deaths from alcohol (liver failure, shootings, suicide) have been replaced by overdoses.
But I also hear that the churches still meet and sing about the Power in the Blood and Marching to Zion.
I used to see all of that from our front porch, and Sean is right. The front porch is a dying American institution. We might do well to bring them back.
We have a porch replica on our house - big enough to sit on and pass out Halloween candy or deliver a package, but too small to really inhabit. There are, however, still neighborhoods here in River City where every house has a porch. Some screened in, others in their original glory, with "gliders" or porch swings and ceiling fans. Festooned with plants in stands and hanging from the eaves and beams. And when I walk through one of those neighborhoods on summer afternoons after lunch, I'll occasionally have to dodge kids on bikes and return greetings from people struggling with whether or not to be neighborly or napping. What a marvelous throwback! Thanks for reminding us all what treasures we have around us!
A welcoming front porch is the best part of any home. I hope to someday live on God’s front porch. Enjoy this beautiful song:
https://youtu.be/hX5w1voct-A?si=cjH0aRYDRWlnZJS2
That's a perfect song to hear through a scratchy speaker while rocking yourself to sleep on the porch. Thanks for sharing.
Thank you! Very appropriate. Brought me back to younger days and I got misty eyed.
We are also porch sitters. Drinking coffee in the mornings. Adult beverages after 5. Love sitting out there when it's raining.
Another wonderful story my dear friend and keep enjoying your porch swing and bringing us those beautiful written words of yours and I will keep on reading stay blessed friend 🙏
We have a front porch and a back porch. We do porch sittin' on the front porch in the morning and back porch sittin' in the evening because that's where it's coolest in the summer!
Driving in new subdivisions today is a sobering experience. Especially if you mistakenly chose the wrong identical house.
But what really creeps me out - is the fact that there are no people to be seen. I don’t even “see dead people”.
Everyone has been sucked out and the streets are bare. No bikes, toys, or messes. And certainly no porches.
Realizing that everyone is inside - glued to their televisions and mechanical devices, is terrifying to me. We are losing our abilities to communicate.
Carry on, Sean! You have never been more important. 🙏❤️