On our outing last week, we traveled the old road back to Shreveport, through farmland green with cotton & soy beans & rice fields. We passed this lovely old homeplace and dear hubby just knew I would want a closer look.
I am not sure why old houses, especially a white clapboard house with a porch, hold such an attraction to me, but I dearly love them.
I can just imagine the family that lived here, the wife
who lovingly decorated and cleaned this home, the children
who played on the porch and under the magnolia tree in the yard
and the father who came home from a day in the fields to his family and a homecooked country supper.
Can't you just imagine them sitting on the porch in the
swing or perhaps a rocker?
So many things revolved around the southern porch
in the days before air conditioning.
Visiting with the neighbors, shelling peas, rocking babies to sleep, telling stories or watching fireflies at night are just a few
memories from my childhood.
I wish this little red swing could talk, or maybe not.....
Sometimes memories and imagination are better than truth.
I do wish someone would restore this grand old lady.
I think she still has a lot to offer, starting with character......
if only we were younger, had more energy, and
probably lots and lots of money............. sigh