It was a beautiful morning on the porch.
But I found myself craving the country and a trip out to mama’s, so we did. And when we got there, we headed onto the trails in the woods to see what daddy was clearing with his tractor.
Afterward, we told Jerry Clower stories and laughed until we cried (“Just shoot up in here amongst us—one of us has GOT to have some relief!”) and had a fresh grilled dinner on their back porch while fireflies flickered (and lovebugs prodded) around us, the frogs croaked, the crickets creaked. I know our days are numbered for nights cool enough for sleeves on the porch and I’m relishing every moment of it we have left.
This made me squeal. Southern Living! A dream!