I am having an affair with my back porch.
I can’t help it.
If I wasn’t already married, I would be on the first plane to Vegas with my porch.
I love its wide gray planks and its stately molded columns.
I love that little wink it gives me when I sit down outside to eat.
I love that my porch lives on the wild side with it’s Christmas decorating like adding leftover black tags and letters to wire trees.
But the worst part?
I think my husband is catching on.
And it’s kind of getting serious.
So if you a girl with blonde hair and shellac nails on a plane to Vegas with a porch….
…mum’s the word.