Porch life

I spent a few hours on the porch Saturday morning -- a great place to sit and watch the world go by, giving directions to passing tourists, saying hey to neighbors, enduring the beeps from scooter renters discovering their horn buttons.

I can't imagine how many happy hours I've spent there already, on an old slatted folding chair that I'm going to hang onto once the project is finished. That chair is even better acquainted with the porch than I am. Besides, its faded wood already matches the decking.

Roy had said he might drop by Saturday to work on the stairwell ceiling without others around, but he didn't show up. Neither did Hank, who'd said he might grout. Nor did Kenny, who said he was going to hook up the AC. (But who ever expects Kenny when he says he'll be there?)

What I didn't expect -- and what a pleasant surprise! -- was Arnold coming around the corner just as I was locking up. With him were his son and daughter-in-law, visiting for New Year's: a wonderful couple, who were either quite taken with the house or so charming that they never let me suspect otherwise.

They really seemed to like the wrapped beams in the den and bedroom. I like 'em, too -- and finished just as they are, though Roy and I had flirted with making them just a few shades darker, so they'd match the old collar ties in the big ceiling.

At any rate, once I get a kitchen, all of the Shermans have to come back for dinner.