Finally Time for Porch Time
Dappled afternoon sun on the bungalow porch.
I used to think that I hated summer, that I wasn’t cut out for the heat, that I was indoorsy in the parlance of our time (if our time were the aughts, that is). After a few years in the high desert, and a few July trips to the Oregon coast, I learned that I don’t hate summer. I hate summer in the south. The heat-humidity combination makes me physically ill, to say nothing of what it does to my curly hair. I’ve loved being near family, but I haven’t loved the weather. Yesterday James and I saw folks sitting on a brewery patio under misters. He had sat on the same patio a few weeks earlier; he said they just left him and his food damp. I’ve daydreamed about the dry climate where nighttime lows are generally thirty degrees cooler than daytime highs. I’ve reminisced about sitting in the shade on our front stoop or the deck at the Telaya tasting room and feeling perfectly comfortable.
I’ve been frustrated recently because it’s just too hot to walk most days. While in Spain, James and I developed the habit of taking at least a two-mile walk every day. We’d walk more, of course, because we walked for transportation and sightseeing as well as exercise, but that daily walk had a big effect on my health. So when we were looking for a place to live in North Carolina, walkability was a huge priority for us. We’ve been quite impressed with the sidewalk coverage in Greensboro. In addition to building up greenways to connect parts of the city for walkers/bikers, Greensboro has strong sidewalk coverage for a city its size. We talk about it all the time. Our neighborhood has sidewalks, a cemetery with excellent walking trails, and a beautiful tree-canopied park. Doesn’t matter when you don’t want to go outside.
The biggest frustration, though, has been the hothouse that is our front porch. Even more than the sidewalks and parks, the porch sold me on our little bungalow. When we first moved in this spring, I spent so much time on the porch. We’d have our morning coffee in the old vinyl rockers that belonged to my grandparents. I’d sit in the early afternoon and read. We’d open the front door and get a cross breeze through the house. That was months ago.
But today? Today has been a lovely day. I harvested some rosemary and basil, and it’s currently drying in the dehydrator. I weeded the front flower beds a bit. We had lunch on the porch, and I wrote this post there. After dinner, we’ll take a walk. I worry this is just a brief reprieve, that the oppressive heat isn’t ready to free me just yet. Here’s hoping for an early fall. The Old Farmer’s Almanac says not to get my hopes up.
