The Front Porch.

[Billyd]

Just how bad things are.

I was sitting in the swing, tired from a day in the field pulling weeds out of peanuts, just in a "woe is me" mood. I had a whole list of things that were wrong with the world. It was too hot in the summer. Why do weeds grow in the peanuts? They have milk in the store, and I have to milk the cow for mine. I went on and on until I jumped out of the swing and said, "the whole world has to change".

Grandpa interrupted my tirade brought me back to reality. He said "Billy, if you want the world to change, it has to start with you".

 

[seoulsearch]

Just how bad things are.

I was sitting in the swing, tired from a day in the field pulling weeds out of peanuts, just in a "woe is me" mood. I had a whole list of things that were wrong with the world. It was too hot in the summer. Why do weeds grow in the peanuts? They have milk in the store, and I have to milk the cow for mine. I went on and on until I jumped out of the swing and said, "the whole world has to change".

Grandpa interrupted my tirade brought me back to reality. He said "Billy, if you want the world to change, it has to start with you".

Your Grandpa sounds like an amazing man, throughout these posts.

Looking forward to meeting him someday in heaven.

 

[Billyd]

The azaleas.

My grandma loved azaleas. She would plant them anywhere she found a place to plant them. Her favorites were the very large bushes on each side of the of the walkway from the road to the front doorsteps.

My aunt had taken my grandma to the five and dime store and the cousins were setting on the porch listening to grandpa telling stories. Grandpa sent me to the barn to get the limb loppers. Little did I know the trouble I was starting. Grandpa told us that grandma wanted us to prune the azaleas. If grandpa said grandma wanted it done, we jumped at the chance to do it.

We started with about 6 inches. Grandpa told us that she wanted them shorter than that. To make a long story short when we finished the huge bush was about three feet tall and almost bare. When grandma got home, she was furious. Grandpa just shrugged it off and said, "Ma, I can set here and see the mailbox." She looked at us and said, "you boys know better than to trim flowers in my yard." She just turned around and walked into the house, letting the screen door slam behind her.

We found out just how mad she was when the cookie jar was empty for a week. As for grandpa, we never did find out how he made up for his indiscretion.

 

[seoulsearch]

The azaleas.

My grandma loved azaleas. She would plant them anywhere she found a place to plant them. Her favorites were the very large bushes on each side of the of the walkway from the road to the front doorsteps.

My aunt had taken my grandma to the five and dime store and the cousins were setting on the porch listening to grandpa telling stories. Grandpa sent me to the barn to get the limb loppers. Little did I know the trouble I was starting. Grandpa told us that grandma wanted us to prune the azaleas. If grandpa said grandma wanted it done, we jumped at the chance to do it.

We started with about 6 inches. Grandpa told us that she wanted them shorter than that. To make a long story short when we finished the huge bush was about three feet tall and almost bare. When grandma got home, she was furious. Grandpa just shrugged it off and said, "Ma, I can set here and see the mailbox." She looked at us and said, "you boys know better than to trim flowers in my yard." She just turned around and walked into the house, letting the screen door slam behind her.

We found out just how mad she was when the cookie jar was empty for a week. As for grandpa, we never did find out how he made up for his indiscretion.

I don't think a grandma can be more serious than leaving a cookie jar cookie-less.

I'm glad you survived her wrath!

(But I also feel sorry for her flowers; I wouldn't want anyone chopping mine either.)

 

[Billyd]

I don't think a grandma can be more serious than leaving a cookie jar cookie-less.

I'm glad you survived her wrath!

(But I also feel sorry for her flowers; I wouldn't want anyone chopping mine either.)

In those days, an empty cookie jar was about the toughest punishment there was for nine and ten-year olds.

I did notice the ladies making a big fuss over grandma's expensive new hat in church the next Sunday.

 

[seoulsearch]

In those days, an empty cookie jar was about the toughest punishment there was for nine and ten-year olds.
I did notice the ladies making a big fuss over grandma's expensive new hat in church the next Sunday.

LOL!!!

Sounds like your Grandpa knew how to cover his hide!!

Your grandparents sound like amazing people.

You're very gifted at telling these stories, and I've been enjoying them!!!

I hope there will be more to come.

 

[Billyd]

When I think about those days, I think of how hard my mom and dad worked and how little time they had during the day to just sit down and listen to us. I am so grateful for grandparents and great aunts and uncles who filled in for them every day. When we walked around the neighborhood, we always found one of them on the front porch, and they always had a story to tell. I wish that I had taken time to keep a diary of those days. More than that I wish that I had taken the time to sit on the front porch with my grandchildren.

It would be a much better world if more time was spent on the front porch than in front of a digital device screen.

 

[Billyd]

LOL!!!

Sounds like your Grandpa knew how to cover his hide!!

Your grandparents sound like amazing people.

You're very gifted at telling these stories, and I've been enjoying them!!!

I hope there will be more to come.

Coming soon: The juke joint, the church, and a wedding.

 

[Ceph]

One of the many blessings of my youth was the front porch. Every house had one, and it was always fun to stop and visit the one sitting in the rocking chair. There usually was a swing, several chairs, and a rocking chair. The rocking chair was always for the oldest member of the family, and the toddlers when no one was in it. Every family had an elderly "aunt" or "uncle", and every aunt or uncle had stories to tell. Looking back, it would have been wonderful to have a recorder so I could remember them today. I'll try to remember some of them.

One of my favorites was my great aunt's story about the man who chopped his wife's head off. They found her, but he ran into the swamp, never to be seen again. The house was in the backwoods and still stood when I was young. The way she told it began with "the drunk old man beat his wife half to death", then chopped her head off with an ax. Then he ran into the swamp, and the woman keeps him there to this day. She walks around the house and down the fence line with her head in her hands at midnight every new moon. I don't know how many times I've gone by that fence line to see the woman. Never have seen her. Maybe I'll drive by next new moon. It may be my lucky day.

Maybe you old folks remember the rocking chair and the stories that you were told. Let us hear them.

I can't go without a Bible story. My grandfather told us how my grandmother's father let him court my grandmother. Her father would put a Bible between them on the porch swing, or the buggy seat when he took her for a ride. Grandpa said that every time he looked at Grandma, he saw the Bible too.

When people die, their souls/spirits aren't allowed to return to earth unless God permits them to, so don't hold out on catching a glimpse of that headless lady.

We didn't have much of a front porch, but we had big yard to play around in.
There were hardly any visitors besides my neighbors though, because we lived on a secluded property at the end of a long private dirt road. (It's mostly portions of neighbors properties they've mutually agreed to allow a road through).

 

[Billyd]

When people die, their souls/spirits aren't allowed to return to earth unless God permits them to, so don't hold out on catching a glimpse of that headless lady.

We didn't have much of a front porch, but we had big yard to play around in.
There were hardly any visitors besides my neighbors though, because we lived on a secluded property at the end of a long private dirt road. (It's mostly portions of neighbors properties they've mutually agreed to allow a road through).

Our neighborhood was about 10 sq miles with 3 families and a dozen or more houses lining (usually a hundred or more feet from the road) the dirt road winding through them. All the children (average family size was around four children) roamed the road. Anyone who grew up on the road knew that mom and dad would know any mischief that we got into before we got home. How is still a mystery. There were no phones, and we definitely didn't tell. My mom told us in her later years that it was ESP, and all the mom's had it.

 

[BigO25]

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
Matthew 11:28-29

 

[Billyd]

Black Cats.

My grandma had a list of bad luck things. The top item on the list was a black cat crossing your path.

My great grandma lived about a quarter mile down the road and my grandma would walk down the road late almost every afternoon to check on her. So, it was this day. About halfway to my great grandma's house a black cat crossed her path. Sthe stopped in her tracks, turned around, and came back to the porch. When she got to the swing, she told us what happened. I couldn't resist myself. I ask, "Grandma, what would have done if the cat had crossed the path on your way home?" She didn't hesitate. She said, "I would have waited for your grandpa to get the truck and come get me."

I couldn't help but wonder how many times Grandpa had hooked up the buggy over the years to get her.

 

[Billyd]

Till the cows come home.

Every fall we moved the cows from the back field to the home pasture. It was about a mile down a dirt road, and it was usually an uneventful trip. Grandpa would open the gate, get back in his truck, go about a hundred feet down the road, and blow his horn. My job was to stand in the road a few feet past the gate. This time everything went as usual. The cows were in the home pasture, and everyone but Grandpa had settled on the porch with a tall glass of tea, chewing the fat (local slang for talking about anything), when Grandpa came up to the porch and told us that we were missing one of the old cows. I knew that meant, Billy, go find the cow and chase her home.

I got up and walked down the road to the field and looked across the field. No cow. That meant that I had to search the swamp in the back corner of the field. Still no cow. After what I would say was a thorough search, I started back home thinking about what I was going to tell Grandpa. When I walk into the yard, the cow that I was searching for was standing at the gate to the pasture. Apparently, the cow came running home. I was the hero for the day, and I sure wasn't going to tell the real story.

 

[Billyd]

Grubbing Worms.

How smart are birds? We were sitting on the edge of the front porch watching a mockingbird light in the front yard, scratch a few times, and pick up a worm, then flying back to the nest. We had played in that part of the yard many times, and we had never seen a single worm, but while we watched, the bird picked up at least a dozen worms. We decided to get a shovel and dig us some worms. Grandpa was sitting in his chair laughing at us. After a few holes and no worms, Grandpa got up and walked over to the wood pile picked up a short 1 x 2 and walked over to where we were digging. We thought he was coming after our backsides for digging holes in the yard, but he just broke it in half and said, "let me show you boys how the mockingbird does it."

He drove one piece of the board into the ground and started rubbing the top of it with it. In just a few seconds there were a half dozen worms crawling out of the ground. He called it "grubbing for worms". The mockingbird saw the worms he grubbed as food for the baby birds. We saw the worms that Grandpa grubbed as bait for fish. We got a can, picked up the worms, grabbed our fishing pole and headed for our favorite spot.

One afternoon two boys, a broken board, and a fishing pole provided meat for the table that evening.

 

[Billyd]

If you have any front porch (or growing up in 40s or 50s) stories, please feel free to post them here. Much has been lost from this great era. This is a chance for you to remember and the young people to learn.

 

[Billyd]

The front porch today.

I still like to sit on the front porch. Late every after afternoon you'll probably find me sitting in my swing watching the world pass by. I have bird feeders, squirrel feeders, hummingbird feeders in, and a four-foot fence covered in morning glories around my front yard. There are plenty of animals to watch. Yesterday evening I had a good example of just how much the animal world is like the people world. One male cardinal took control of the area around bird feeders and attacked any bird trying get to one. A squirrel ran another away from pinecones. A dragon fly chased others from the fence. The hummingbirds spent the afternoon fighting over the feeders and the morning glories. Even the two bunnies that are normally best friends got into a spat.

To top the afternoon off, my grandson came over fussing with his sister on the phone. I just laughed. I don't need a smartphone, a tv news program, a sitcom, or a movie see what the world is like. All I need is my porch and a swing.