Front Porch Pointers

Last fall I finally converted my porch wannabe  into a proper front porch. It turned out to be one of the best worst moves I ever made, as now all I want to do is sit on it. Even in the scorching days of summer and with the house needing a good vacuuming or dusting, I find myself lured to that place to enjoy the fresh air and to idle away stolen moments in reading, reflection, and rest.

It saddens me to see so many lovely porches going to waste these days. Brought up with backyard swimming pools or barbecue grills, Gen Y-ers (X-ers?) who are fortunate enough to have porches don’t appear to know how to use them. Or maybe they just don’t have the time. But even retired Baby Boomers, who should have the time, seem reluctant to gravitate to the front of the house.

In an effort to return people to the time-honored tradition of porch-sitting, I’m suggesting the following:

1. Keep it simple.

 I love looking at the porches featured in my favorite southern lifestyle magazine. They advise decking them out with settees, usually in wicker, and accessorizing with over-stuffed cushions and colorful pillows. For an extra dose of charm, throw in a few potted plants and a chandelier. (Did I say chandelier?) Step onto one of these porches, and before you know it, you’re craving a mint julep and referring to it the veranda. But a word of caution here: This kind of charm can be more trouble than it’s worth. When I planned my porch, I wasn’t exactly sure what I wanted, but I knew what I didn’t want—another room to clean and take care of. I purchased simple but comfortable furniture that would withstand all types of weather and didn’t require a lot of cleaning, maintenance, or hauling in and out of doors. I also kept the number of furnishings to a minimum. The “floor” is flagstone, which means I don’t have to freak out over a few fallen twigs or leaves or the occasional splat of bird poop. My porch gives me a pleasant spot where I can unwind and not be reminded of the need for upkeep. However, it hasn’t yet shielded me from the reminder my flowerbed needs weeding. I’m working on that.

                                                                                 

Magazine's idea of perfect porch decor

My idea...

 2. Extend a welcome.

Screens around porches are good for blocking things we don’t want like flies and mosquitoes, but they also block things we do want—waves and greetings to and from passersby. For me, that’s a big part of front-porch appeal. The market offers plenty of unobtrusive products for deterring pests (the insect kind, not people kind) without sacrificing views or closing off opportunities for quick, neighborly visits. Speaking of those visits, extra chairs should be available for guests to have a seat and chat a while. Also, it doesn’t hurt to have a pitcher of iced tea (or a bottle of wine) chilling in the fridge.

My idea of perfect porch entertaining

3. Sit a spell.

Many years ago, as a busy twenty-something, I spent a weekend visiting my grandmother in a black-dot, East Texas town. The time passed way too quickly, and as Bill and I  headed home to another hectic work week in a crowded city, I was tired just thinking about all I had to do when I got there. We passed a little frame house that listed slightly starboard and was badly in need of a paint job. But its saving grace was a wrap-around porch, where an old man sat, calmly rocking and looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

If you’re lucky enough to have a front porch, take advantage of it, if only for a few minutes each day. Make time to put your feet up and enjoy a cool drink.  Listen to the birds, take in a sunset, call out to the neighbors.

The image of that old man has stayed with me for years, and I think it has fueled much of my porch obsession. I can’t say for sure what he was thinking that day (maybe that he needed to weed his flowerbed), but I do know what I was thinking: That fellow knows how to use a porch.

NOTE: You might have noticed a slight change in the look of my blog. More to come in the near future!

"If the World Had a Front Porch..."

            Basically, I’m a city gal. Growing up on the outskirts of Houston spoiled me for urban conveniences. These days, I still like living within a few blocks of all the essential destinations in my life: supermarkets, shopping centers, my bank, my doctor, my church, and a Braums’ ice cream store. But my mother was a country girl, and frequent childhood trips to her tiny East Texas hometown established a few rural roots in me—at least enough to give me an appreciation for country music (some) and a yearning for a big front porch.

My grandparents' front porch.
Its appearance has changed some
since I was a kid, but the good
memories remain constant.

            In 1995, Tracy Lawrence came out with the hit “If the World had a Front Porch.” With the exception of a grandfather who taught the singer “how to cuss” (I never heard my grandfather utter a single curse word), that song tells so much of my own front-porch experience. My grandparents’ big porch was replete with the swing (why have a front porch if you don’t have a swing?), the rocking chair, and the yellow light bulb that attracted swarms of kamikaze insects. I never witnessed the birth of puppies on the porch, but I recall a couple of litters being cradled in boxes there. On hot summer nights, my siblings and I, along with a passel of cousins, would play games or collect “lightning bugs” in the yard, while the older folks sat on the porch to catch and shoot the breeze. Often, one of the kids was recruited to sit on top of the ice cream freezer while an adult cranked the handle. There were also truckloads of watermelon consumed on that porch.

            With so many good memories, is it any wonder I’ve always longed to own a big front porch? And yet I never have. I grew up in the fifties and sixties in one of those midcentury houses with a front porch the size of a postage stamp. The houses my husband Bill and I have owned all had porches the size of the envelope—a little larger but still not big enough to serve any useful purpose. It seems that until recently front porches all but disappeared. In the suburban sprawl of the fifties, folks retreated behind the walls of their houses to seek privacy and to watch TV. In the sixties and seventies, they ventured back outside, but instead of lounging on the porch to sip iced tea or lemonade, they retreated to backyard patios to barbecue. In the eighties, those patios became decks—often with the added luxury of a hot tub and/or a pool—and that trend held steady through the nineties and into the new millennium. These days, outdoor kitchens ensure that most of our socializing remains in the back yard.

            Lately, though, I’ve noticed a revival of the front porch. With the resurrection of the Craftsman and bungalow styles, lovely porches are once again gracing the fronts of new houses: porches large enough to provide shade and comfortable seating for several people; porches where folks can sit outside and greet—or meet—their neighbors.

            I don’t think my dream of owning a big front porch will ever become a reality. Bill and I have lived in several different houses throughout our married life but have been in our current one for twenty-five years. We’re so settled in, it would take an act of God to remove us (maybe not such a remote possibility with Oklahoma tornadoes and earthquakes). But  Bill insists his next address will be the ground. I’m thinking more along the lines of “the home.”

...my porch "wannabe"
(But, hey, it works.)

My dream porch...

            So what do you do when a dream eludes you? You improvise. Located between an exterior garage wall and the sidewalk that leads to our front door is a patch of land originally intended as a flower bed. Problem was, nothing but a boxwood hedge and a couple of yaupon hollies would grow there. When the hollies were bushes, summer sun burned up any flowers I planted in that spot. When they grew into trees, too much shade became the culprit. So about fifteen years ago, in a fit of frustration, I covered that patch with pavers and made my own “front porch.” It’s a poor substitute for a rambling veranda with the obligatory swing, but Bill and I use it for a cozy place to read or chat on the phone or to enjoy some fresh air. And it’s a great place to wave or yell “hello” to neighbors. 

            In regard to that aforementioned “home,” when the time comes and if I have anything to say about the matter, it will have a big front porch. I think that will make a nice transition into my final and eternal abode—which, of course, will have a HUGE one.

            Have any front-porch thoughts or memories you’d like to share?