I am sitting in my wicker rocker on my front porch. My mother-in-law gave it to me when we moved into our new house and I promptly painted it black to match my porch swing. The weather is just about perfect – light but not overly sunny. There is a gentle breeze with a mild temperature in the high 60s. I can hear birds singing, and the occasional passing car. My dog Jett has been laying here beside me chewing on a stick for the last half hour, and life is just about perfect for him. At the end of the street where the highway overpass is, I can hear an occasional truck. The house across the street is abandoned. The people put a mobile home on the back of their property and left the house which was in too much disrepair for the elderly people to keep up with. Every once in a while I hear a gull sounding bird, and smell beach air. I know it isn't my imagination because we don't live that far from the Gulf of Mexico. Sometimes I wonder how I got here – and other times I am deliriously happy. I think about the years we will live on and off of this porch. Maybe one of my daughters will be asked for their hand in marriage here. (I will probably sweep before then.) Family reunions, grandbabies learning to walk, small children climbing the rails. I can imagine Travis and I sitting on the swing in our golden years, saying nothing but knowing everything about the lives we've shared together. While sometimes this porch seems very empty, and I wish I could fill it rail to wall with all of my friends, today I am contented to have it to myself. I think my children are making something for my birthday. Sheets have been hung at both entrances to the kitchen and I have been given the "do not enter" speech, but through the storm door that leads to the front porch, I saw flames a moment ago. (YIKES – for real!) I have my feet up and a sweet, hot cup of coffee, and the leisure to blog my little heart out. Life is good here on my front porch!