Porches Are For Sitting

Our family budget has never been flush with unattached dollars I could snag for things like decorating. I've been married thirty-five years this summer and I can count on one hand the furniture items we've purchased at full price. Hand-me-downs rule. Our leather couch caught my eye in the "damaged goods" corner at Sam's Club. Half price because of a knick in the wood near the floor. Confident our grandchildren would take that blemish as a personal challenge, I brought it into this house of reuse, recycle, restore.

I don't recall now why we had money for wicker lawn furniture twenty years ago. Some bookkeeping fluke, no doubt. The simple, shabby-chic chairs and loveseat form an actual conversation area on our screened front porch.

This week the Wicker Society showed up at my door and brought charges against me. I've been neglectful. Porches are for sitting, and I haven't been doing much of that lately.

I've been chasing and pursuing and making my keyboard sound like River Dance on speed and spending way too much time in the kitchen and no time at all renewing my acquaintance with wicker.

I can't afford a lawsuit. What other option do I have but to retreat to my porch with a cup of tea and a good book?