The Southern Front Porch

There is probably no architectural feature more indicative of Southern culture than the front porch. When my husband and I bought our first house in Guyton, Georgia a year after we married, I fell in love with the porch. Really nothing else about the house mattered. Looking back on it, the porch was small and narrow but Ali Grace was tiny and there was no need for anything bigger. I met my neighbor then and we spent many a hot summer evening rocking our babies there. We remain friends to this day, almost ten years later.

Unfortunately I realized the importance of a porch way too late after buying our second home in Rincon, Georgia in the spring of 2004.  The house was by all accounts a step up from our first little starter home in Guyton. It was in a golf course subdivision. My husband loves golf and we thought it would be perfect. There was no porch, but there was a small "veranda".  I've since learned that "Veranda" is a yankee word for "Wish we had a porch".  We hardly ever used it and I sorely missed having a porch. We never even met our neighbors there, although we did hear their yapping dogs while sitting on our "veranda".

Finally we heard the call of the wild and decided it was time to move back to the country. It was a tough decision. We took a pay cut. A BIG PAY CUT. However, how many people get the chance to live in a house their daddy designed and their husband helped build with his own hands? What immediately attracted me to this house was it's front porch. I ordered the plans and my dad totally changed the outside appearance of the house as well as adding some square footage to the inside. We also bumped out the front porch a foot or so. I love my front porch. We don't live in a neighborhood any longer so I doubt anyone will be taking an evening stroll and just happen upon our porch. But, honestly y'all.... some nights I sit on that porch by myself and the wind rustles through the boston ferns and I really think to myself that life honestly can not get any better. It's therapeutic.

Recently I was sitting on my porch during one of those common summer evening thunderstorms. I looked around and what I saw was almost like a still life painting.  The ferns were gorgeous. Ali Grace's box of crayons was sitting by the door. Addie's dolls were sitting in the black rocking chair that has peeling paint. Pete's old tennis shoes were strewn across the porch where the dogs had dragged them around. You can tell a lot about a person by their front porch.  I didn't get a twitch from the disarray. I soaked it up instead.

Obviously my ferns are the pride of my porch. I love them and I baby them. I only want ferns that I cannot reach around. I am too impatient to grow ferns throughout the summer. I want a huge fern in the spring. I got mine this year at Louisville Hardware. I paid way too much for 6 ferns but I get so much enjoyment from them, I think it's worth it.  Two tablespoons of epsom salts per gallon of water will really  make them green up if you've wintered your ferns. I don't usually winter mine. I throw them out around Christmas time and buy new ones in the spring. Sounds kinda cruel I guess but I have no place to really store them. When my house was on the Christmas Tour of Homes, my boston ferns were still beautiful in December. That's one of the blessings of living in the South I guess. I try to mist mine everyday as well. Ferns like humidity and it's very hard to overwater them, especially somewhere this hot! As long as there are drain holes in the bottom of the container, there is little danger of overwatering.

Well I'm getting off the internet and getting back to my porch. Lately it's so hot, the only porch time I get is after 10! Have a wonderful week and if things get too crazy, go sit on your porch for a spell. If you don't have one, you are welcome on mine anytime.