The porch

I love this back porch (I love the fence too, but that's another post).  It's not my porch.  It belongs to a house I drove by everyday when I went to my old school in Big Town.  I don't know who lives there.  I never once saw any people out on this porch.  That's a shame.  If this was my porch, I might live on it.

I took the picture, not as a peeping Tom (well kinda, 'cause I didn't have permission) but as a designer.  DH and I are looking at renovating the Estate.  I have a picture in my mind of exactly how things should look when they are done.  DH, thinks in blue prints, measurements and angles.  Our "visions" are different languages.  This is the porch I see on my addition.  Here I will sit and look out over the gardens and pool.  Here I will drink lemonade, or wine, or both, in the evenings, or in the afternoons, or both.  DH likes the porch too, though he still looks at structural stuff like roof line.  That doesn't mean anything to me.  I want an old fashioned porch, that fits with our house, that holds a rocking chair and a small antique wicker table  (to hold the lemonade and wine).

I think I love this porch because it's timeless.   Here it is in sepia -- looks like my Gran's porch (minus the wine....)

It says "Come in neighbour, and BYOB." 

Yep.  I'm all for back porch living.