Wednesday, March 21, 2007
It's official. It is time for porch! That might sound a little odd, but it is a tradition in our household. We have this huge porch that wraps around the house. All our friends have always stopped by for some porch when they needed some solitude, or our particular brand of therapy and humor. On the corner we have a large round whiskey barrel table, and the chairs were also made from whiskey barrels. These are showing great wear now days. We bought them, if I remember correctly in 1973/4. They are too large to move, so they sit there during the winters as well.
The porch is sided to look like a vacation cabin somewhere in the Rockies, and it gives you that flavor. In actuality, it is part of an old mansion that was purchsed for the one room that this porch wraps around.
This first picture is the east side of the porch, and my husband restored this buggy in the late '70's. The plaque on it says it was made by Case Buggy, which became Case Tractors.
This next photo is also the east side, but now shows you the barrel table/chairs on the corner. Well, almost. These were all taken in the fall about 4/5 years ago, but it would photo exactly the same today. Right to your right of the green lawn chair, which is right at the corner, is a door that goes into the room. The mansion was built in the late 1800's and belonged to the bank owner at the time. During that time also, banks "made" their own money. Meaning that I have a $20 bill that has a picture and the name of the bank, and the bill is signed by the treasurer who was the bank owner and the man who lived in the mansion.
This last one shows the side of the porch facing south. You can better see the barrels and you can still see the buggy. The strings you see are distracting, but in the summer they have morning glories growing on them, and when they are thick and full they add extra privacy and cool to the porch. It is a wonderful place. The dog sitting there belongs to the neighbor. His name was Wizzer, and he was a bear to keep on his side of the fence. But the cat is mine. A wild barn cat. Can you find him? He is peeking around the corner of the closest barrel, but all you can see is a bit of his black head, and the glow from his eyes. Well I tell you. It is lunch time here, and the porch is calling. Bye for today.