I think our porch should be called the Talking Place or something like that. The first time Ben and I sat down on the wide, inviting steps, staring onto the street, our conversation just flowed. The porch wasn't (and still isn't) even complete. We could look up and see the sky through the rafters. Only a couple boards of plywood had been screwed into them so far. And, if we weren't careful, Isaac could easily run right off of the deck. Only the top plate of the railings were in place... no pickets, spaced two inches apart. But it felt like we had arrived. Of course, that meant we had only just begun.
But shall I step back and provide a bit of background?
It's our summer of curb appeal. Last summer we waterproofed our basement and refinished the interior. Unfortunately, due to some contractor issues, by the end of the summer, our front lawn was a big mess of concrete, with no grass. No front steps either. This summer we begin the reversal and improvements. It's too much fun... and a whole lot of work.