My grandmother had a porch that was a spaceship, the Bat cave, the ship on the high seas and the world that Kevin Hutchinson and I saved by becoming all the superheroes that we created ourselves. (I had one that had an invulnerable left leg, so he had to become an acrobat so that he could repel bullets.) It had a porch swing which was perfect for reading books. I remember reading Under Milkwood there. ( Dylan Thomas) My other grandmother had a high one that you could see down the block, but the cousins and me would be playing hide and go seek under it instead of sitting up on it. The adults all sat out there though, before and after dinner.
No one much sits out on their front porches in Westchester California. Ours isn't big enough to accommodate a chair. This song (below) is about Texas porches, so its got the Texas set of memories and smells. Same spirit of thought, though. I had midwest porches (and one in New Orleans I wouldn't mind having back). I kept waiting for Judy to show:
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