Porches

January 2013

Front, back, side, screened-in, two-story, wrap-around--the south has every porch style known to mankind.

In the olden days, porches were not built merely to be architecturally pleasing to passersby; they were necessary for sanity and survival. Prior to the invention of the air conditioner, a wide porch was as necessary a feature on a southern home as a front door. Ladies sat in rocking chairs and fanned themselves, babies clad only in diapers crawled around, men reclined against the railings with their hats pulled down over their eyes to ward off the sun's glare, and dogs slept under the porch steps in the cool dirt. Lemonade and sweet iced tea were guzzled by the gallon.

Yankees often comment on the slow drawl of the south. Well, I'm here to tell you, when the thermometer doesn't drop below the high nineties and triple digits for three months straight, you will discover real quick that it is too hot to talk fast!

On the average summer day when the temperature exceeds 100 degrees, the humidity smothers like a wet blanket, and you wish you could travel back in time to join Shackleton's Expedition to the Antarctic, a porch offers some measure of relief.

Southern children learn early on the value of rocking chairs.



Grannie and Aunt Gussie's front porch--oh, the memories! It was tiny and screened-in. I would sprawl out on the cool concrete with my coloring book and crayons. One time, Grannie chided me for not coloring inside the lines. I remember telling her, "Grannie, I'm only six!" :)
The porch had a swing and a glider. I can still hear the creak of the swing as it swayed back and forth. It made a sound like a squeaky door being opened when it would swing back, there would be a pause, then it would creak again on the descent as my barefeet brushed the floor.



Grandma and Grandpa's back porch is where we dyed Easter eggs, ate ice cream sandwiches, played with the beagles, and caught lizards. It is also where I learned a traumatizing life lesson when I was around five or six years old. I caught a chameleon by its tail and excitedly held up my prize only to discover that I had a hold of the tail only. How was I supposed to know that lizards' tails fall off? I screamed, dropped the tail, and watched in horror as Lady (one of Grandpa's beagles) ate it! I vaguely remember trying to get her to spit the tail out; why, I have no clue. What was I going to do with it anyway? Reattach it? The sight of that lizard's tail wriggling on the porch (yes, it continued to move) stayed with me a long time. I felt so guilty for hurting the poor lizard. Come to find out, Florida Chameleons can regrow their tails. That made me feel better. But from that day forward, I was always extra careful to catch lizards by their torsos, not their tails!



Adulthood has not diminished my lizard catching capabilities. I always keep an eye out for them on Grandma and Grandpa's back porch when I visit in the summer months.