Porch time

It fits right in the "NEVER" category.

If you asked me if I would live in a southern city and spend late afternoons on the porch, I'd look at you askance and raise one eyebrow - I'm good at that - and say NEVER!

So of course, here I am, in a charming southern city. And the dogs bring me to the porch nearly every afternoon. We do our long walks in the morning. After the dogs eat their dinner I want them to get some sunshine and fresh air, so I grab a book and a glass of water, and Bill grabs a book and a glass of wine, and someone grabs some Wheat Thins, and we turn on the porch fans and life is just great.

They patrol the yard, well, the telephone wires and poles for evil squirrellies and we remind them "hush, quiet city voices." Our neighbors pass by and visit. Giacomino teaches the youngsters How To Dig a Giant Hole. The sun drops behind the neighbor's house and the fans are joined by a pleasant evening breeze. Giacomino and Maria settle in the papasan chairs. The youngsters play tag with a squeak toy. Sammy squeals his wagging delight when his very Favorite Neighbor emerges from her car down the block.

A squirrel jumps from a telephone pole to the dogwood tree in the next yard and the whole school of dogs swims from all corners to that one spot at the fence. Nine noses in one square foot of fence. The five years of begging the dogs to be quiet is working, and only Delia barks. Good dogs.

Maria and Giacomino are smart enough to get back to the papasan chairs first. Luciano climbs in my lap. He likes to breathe the exact same air that I breathe on these occasions, so he positions his nose an inch from mine and keeps it there. Silly old dog.

If it weren't for the dogs, I would be doing some inane busy work. Like vacuuming, or doing laundry, or cleaning out the van. But I'm sitting on the porch, with the man I love the most in the world, enjoying the neighborhood. Enjoying the neighbors. Enjoying the dogs.

Appreciating this wonderful life.

Maria rolls around in the papasan chair and barks her silliness to the world.