Grandparent's Porch

June has flown passed and though demands have kept us on the go, we have managed to sneak in family porch time several evenings this month. I have been thinking about the porches that marked passages of time for me. The earliest memories I have begin with on my grandparents humble southern porch. Their home had two porches, a more formal one on the front and the one we all gathered on in the backyard. It was a cement slab with with black wrought iron rails that we used to balance ourselves in between the rails trying to be as tall as the adults. The porch had only one chair wrought iron, of coarse, and that was for Mamaw. The kids just sat on the steps or clung onto to the ironwork, twisting and contorting to remain on. A well was located there, ingeniously placed by Papaw, afforded getting water much easier . Large honeysuckle vines covered one side of the porch and filled the morning air with a heavenly scent. Mamaw worked tirelessly in her kitchen until her "stories" came on, then back to the kitchen to prepare supper. Meantime, as a child, spending summers there was the best. It meant playing "I Spy" or "Tag" in the backyard with my cousins. "NOT IT!!" Naturally, the porch was "SAFE!" Most days and evenings centered around the porch. Memories of snapping sugar bean, shelling peas, husking corn, and listening to my mom and aunts telling stories and laughing. Toward evening Aunt Charlotte would bring us out a special treat to cool us off. Porch popsickles were special and tasted extra good, especially cherry. Mamaw's porch was what memories were made from. Coarse, it was also the spot you were taken to "discuss" any antics you may have been a part of..While that was several decades ago, I still feel "safe" there when I visit now.