I thought an image taken yesterday of my yard throne waiting patiently for the snow to melt and the buds to open was appropriate for this post that will most likely end up as a whine fest about how much winter sucks in Maine when February comes.
That lawn chair is at the least 45 years old. For the last 15 years it has sat perched under the red maple on the kitchen side of the house. Next to it standing on end imagine a cinder block that has been there just about as long. The seat has provided me many moments of respite from the toils of yard care over the years. The cinder block has provided a safe haven for a cup of coffee, the occasional beer, and once I used it to hold a bottle and shot glass as I got pasted in the warm evening breezes of July 1998. I do not now remember what caused me to celebrate, but celebrate I did. I woke up at dark thirty in the morning with a shitty taste in my mouth and a new spider web trying to pin me to the chair.
I placed the chair under the red maple because I don't have a porch. Well not much of a porch anyway. The porch at the front door is more of a staging area. It holds snow shovels, buckets of sand, a milk box and just enough cover to get out of the rain. The red maple however offers me safe haven in all but the hardest rain. I can survey my kingdom and be pleased.
I have considered placing a stone patio under that chair. But as most considerations I come up with go, the imagined patio remains locked in the conceptual stage. But I will say this, the patio I imagine as my feet kick leaves out of the way and brush cobwebs off the chair is a patio fit for a king. To the left I have built in my mind a natural stone grill with a ten foot stone chimney. To my right a small rock shelf to replace the cinder block that has been dependably covering until such time as I actually build that shelf. And under it all, the beautiful stones I have spent years collecting that now collect dust over near the garage.
Yeah, I can't wait to enjoy that patio again. Even if it is only in my mind.
9 comments:
You reminded me that someday I need to blog the story of my late wife and her memory tree.
Re:And under it all, the beautiful stones I have spent years collecting that now collect dust over near the garage.
I've noticed some places are very good for growing rocks. No matter how often you pick and remove rocks from say a garden, there are always more popping up. Is this the case at your place??
Blog Fodder - A memory tree? Excellent. I look forward to reading it.
Kulkiri - Maine grows rocks as good as anywhere. Mainers have been flinging, prying, dragging them out of the way for centuries. No matter out many are yanked out of the ground, it is a sure bet that ten more were underneath it.
I had a pretty good stone collection going in Port Townsend, Wa, but not so much here in the Sierra foothills. Do you ever find fossils?
And why is it that the concept never lives up to the actual end product?
We had a similar storm here but, like Maine natives, Nova Scotians scoff at such meager accumulation. A porch or patio, however, are what dreams are made from.
We're all coming over for some BBQ.
I like winter but I'm glad we don't get as much snow as you guys get.
Typical winter here, I may only get to play with my snowplow once.
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