After having lived in our house for nearly four years, I finally decided enough was enough about the front porch. From the outside, it looked like nobody lived here for a long, long time.
It definitely looks like someone lives here now. Not only that, but it looks like I live here. I like that a lot.
It’s become a family tradition of staging porches to put things that don’t normally go outside on the porch. I balked at my mom for months about the fact that she had a regular living room lamp on her porch, that she’d actually turn on in the evening. My aunt has a comfy set-up on her back porch. And a lamp, as well.
I don’t have the lamp. Not because I don’t want one; I do want a lamp on the porch. But, the porch is not wired in the right place for it. However, now I’ve gone and put that mirror on the front porch. Who’s the silly one now?
But I get it, at least. The porch, for those of us who are lucky enough to have a covered, relatively spacious porch, is supposed to be an extension of our living space. It’s the first area visitors to my home will see. It should be welcoming and comfortable and personal. Now it is just that.
For me, at least, the space is welcoming and comfortable and personal for a much more selfish reason. It’s because I want to spend time on it and I want the space to be a reflection of me. So it is.
I don’t need to hole myself up in a closet to call it my fort and have time and space to think and create. Now I can do it outside, in a very comfortable, familiar place.
I love it!