My Girlies

Here they are.

My Sweetie Pie Girlies.

My Biggest Fans, Moral Supporter, Defenders, Encouragers, Rebukers, Audience, Best Friends

The Loves of My Life.

And here we see Baby Girl, Great With Child. And here is Eldest/Admin holding The Most Adorable Granddaughter Ever.  Do not try to argue this point with me.  I have affidavits.  I have witnesses.  There are professional Baby Observers that will state that this is true.

And here they all are in one sweet photo.

Let me tell you a little back story on The Maternity Top that Baby Girl is so proudly wearing:

The Maternity Top That Saved The Day

Once upon a time, long, long ago, (nearly thirty, Eldest Son!) a young mama to be had a very overwhelming winter.  Not only was she pregnant with Child Number Two, but she was recovering from a very virulent flu virus.  Not good for a Preggo.  Then to add to the fun, the sewer line to her house collapsed.  She had to move her grand, full, constantly peeing body to her mama's apartment, where she slept on the floor for two weeks, with a nearly potty trained little girl.  I say nearly, because while she was installed at mama's, Grandma, (Maga, to the little girl) decided to try to potty train her.  No stress there.  Her Hubby was working two jobs and trying to fix the sewer in the freezing cold and snow.  Sigh.  Ah, memories.  By the time Spring started to bring it's breeze of hope, Little Mama was growing quite large, getting closer and closer to her due date in late April/early May.  And as so often the case, Young Mama felt herself akin to a whale/elephant/dinosaur and really, really tired of her heavy corduroy/denim/wool jumpers that she had lived in for nearly 6 months.  As spring dallied around, the air fresh and breezy, Mama whimpered that she really needed some different to wear.  Something light, something pretty, something to get her through her warring self esteem issues the last six weeks of her 'containment'.  Hubby, Practical Man that he was,(is) could have argued that if I just toughed it out for a little bit longer or that it was just too impractical to buy a Maternity outfit so late in the day.  He could have, but his mama did not raise no idiot.  He knew that his Very Large young wife who was busy setting up a nursery and chasing a two year old, did not really need to hear practicalities.  She needed indulging.  So one day, one lovely spring day, he took her to the only Maternity Shop in town.  Her greedy, gleeful eyes scanned the new Spring Clothing line and she nearly swooned.  But finally, a sweet little top, one with a self belt for Post Maternity and the lightest fabric ever caught her eye.  She felt light as air and very summery in the sweet floral fabric. Young Mama came out of the dressing room, wearing a smile larger than her belly, Young Hubby, wisely, threw the budget out of the window and nodded in a appreciation and approval and drove home a very renewed and happy soon to deliver mama.  Young Mama wore that top during the next two pregnancies and even in between, the memories of it still making her smile.  Eventually, it was packed away with other memorable clothing only to be unfolded and unpacked when her eldest daughter first found out she was expecting.  Gladly, Number One daughter embraced the blouse, remembering her mama wearing it during her pregnancies and in between.  The soft fabric floated over her growing tummy and she felt rather nostalgic being able to wear it.  Then one hot summer day, she carefully packed it away herself only this time it was going to another home, not a box in a basement.  This time it was going to her Baby Sister, the one she had diapered and fed and babysat many, many time.  This time, it was her Baby Sister whose tummy was growing and who was uncomfortable in the heat of the season.  Big Sister knew just what she needed and she took it to her.

And you get to see her wearing it in the photo above.....

Little family legacies.

The End....(Hardly.)

Porchin It!

( Grandpa Murphy's Boot bench. Stayed near the back porch of their home forever. Grandpa would change his work boots to his slippers when he came home at the end of the day.)

(Two little odd tables that were purchased different years but just seem like sisters.)

(The sun drying of the wicker after a good wiping down)

(Baby Girl's cast off paint came in handy as the transformation begins!)

Since the first memories of my grandmother's porch, I have been in love with the thought of the comfort of summer outdoors. It has been my seasonal goal to create the lovely atmosphere that I experienced in my grandma's cozy summer porch. Her broad, screened-in area covered the whole front of her tiny house. It seemed huge to my seven year old eye, yet comfy in all it's chintz and mission style porch furniture of the day. Two rockers, one settee, two straight chairs and odd little tables, appropriately placed for our 7-up floats. We would watch the hummingbirds visiting her honeysuckle and feel the coolness that her massive hydrangeas created for privacy. The whole sensory experience stayed with me all my life.

And I sought out this memory to create it for my family.

From the time that we shared in a windowed in front porch in our first married apartment, to the wide, shaded veranda that we now own, I have sought to create a haven of summer comfort for all that would pass my way.

While the winter winds would blow, I would start dreaming up the 'theme' for that summer's porch. Some years I went colorful, like the Mary Engelbreit year where each peace of wicker was a joyful spill of color. Some years I went earthy. My old wooden porch in the northern house was known to have a different color of porch paint each year. Neighbors and friends would inquire if the porch was 'open' for the season or not. I would usually announce that we were 'porchin it' to anyone interested in settling their late spring warm self into the comfort of a a overstuffed wicker sofa or rocker. Pillows abounded and candles kept just enough light to see one an other's smile or tears from the day.

Last week, as the temps climbed, I turned on my outside water, attached my hose, emptied the accumulated dirt from last year's porch upon my yard, while I purged the beloved area with a good soaking/scrubbing. Something so very satisfying, that first wash. It feels like a cleansing of the soul; an almost spiritual experience. Running my bare feet over the clean cool concrete of my porch, testing out the strength of my bare tootsies of the season, I feel a rite of passage of the season that pretty much dominates all other preparations of the season.

I cleaned off all the furniture. I shook out all the cushions, I took the assortment of last fall cleaned pillows out of their 'sealed for your protection' bags and evaluated the furniture needs.

This year, my Shabby Chic odds and ends auction cast off tables, needed some attention. Shabby Chic can only be as good as they survive with the minimum of paint required for the look. This year would be the little piece's swan song if they didn't get some protection from a good coat of free paint. (Baby Girl's cast offs from a past apartment). Usually, fabric will mandate the paint color, but this year it was the free paint color that predicted the 'theme' for the year.

Gingham.

That's the word.

The stash from Miss Pauline's Auction last fall, should do most nicely.

So the transformation has begun.

Furniture is painted, cushions in line for a recover, lamps and candles in their places, odd crazy cat figurine that Baby Girl's Hubby hates, all ready for the piece de resistance: The Floral Display.

I have been known to receive poems and small essays regarding my porch.

Here is one of my favorites from my wonderful Kindred Spirit friend. It was written after a nice, springtime visit. That year, she helped me paint wicker and pick out fabric. A really grand time:

Prayer for Deb's Porch

May your steps be always stepped upon

By feet that bring good news.

May tears and laughter grace you,

May you comfort, bless and soothe.

May potted plant and flower

And fragile twisted vine,

Cheer your sills and railings

While spring and summer shine.

May you celebrate the holidays

With banner, wreath and flag.

May children use you for home base

When playing games of tag.

May lovers rock and swing here,

As they whisper and they woo.

May promises avowed here,

Be heartfelt and be true.

May friends and family congregate

To find sustenance and rest

And may Jesus Christ remain

Your most invited Guest.

Porch Time

Nothing I like better than some porch time.
Been that way since I was very young and my grandmother had this tiny, tiny house that had one awesome front porch. She had this mission oak type porch furniture, and to this day I can still smell the summer that clung to the chintz cushions on that lovely furniture. Sitting in this shaded, screen covered room, with huge hydrangea bushes on both sides, I would sip on my 7 up sherbet float that she made just for me and dream, perhaps, of the day when I would have my own wonderful Porch World.

Since that time, I have accumulated porches and memories along the way.
Even our first apartment has an enclosed porch that I immediately wanted to set up like Grandmas. Our first house had a nice little porch with a swing that brought my first two babies bliss on hot summer days.

Our second house was the porch that remains in my children's memories. A small screened in porch became host to innumerable visitors. Every space was covered with a comfy spot to perch with a neighboring table to lay the inevitable snacks brought out to entice guests to stay longer. The porch evolved and had themes each year. New paint, a ceiling fan, small lamps, many cushions. Lots of naps. How in the world could such a small area host such memories, I have no idea, but I can still picture myself with friends, laughing till way late, while our children played kick the can or flashlight tag.

Now I have my grown up porch. Wide and comfortable, it can accommodate the size of my growing children. We do not have to stumble over each other's feet or risk walking on someone to get around. Wicker collected from many years, finds a home on my porch. I have a wicker porch swing from many years ago thanks to an auction, a rocker from a garage sale, and a small dining set from an estate sale. The one thing my heart has always longed for, wicker-wise, was a chaise lounge. People do not usually let go of those things. They keep them till they are done or they end up in an antique store, out of my range.

Then this happened:
Baby Girl's Mother in law asked me if I wanted a wicker ottoman. I NEVER say no to anything wicker. I gave her an affirmative and a few weeks later, she showed up in her truck with her amazing chaise lounge! The look on my face had to have startled her because she told me quickly, if you don't want it, you don't have to take it! She mistook my awe with crazed disgust. (I'll have to check to see how similar those looks are! :D)
I was speechless.
She had no room for it in her recent downsizing and knew I owned a home for Unwed Wicker. She knew where to take it. Even if she had trouble with it's name, it mattered not....I was going to own a wicker chaise lounge..For my grown up porch!

Last Friday, Faithful Friend, tried it out and proclaimed it very adequate and terribly addictive and stayed till way late while a storm raged outside of the porch.

I love porches.