Sitting on the Front Porch

~Magickal Graphics~ Hello there,

I'm Barb,  and I live in the desert and I absolutely hate it. I'll try to keep this blog drama and complaint free, but I'm not promising anything. Chances are, until things in my life are where I hope they will be some day, complaints will come and go on occasion.

I had a blog on another site, but due to the fact that I couldn't use my own CSS codes and tweak my site the way I wanted to without forking out a huge sum of money, I decided to bring my blog over here.  So this will involve tons of copy/pasting and a very late night for me this evening. Thankfully, tomorrow is Friday, my last day of work for the week.

So here I am, my broke self and my computer and the eons of ideas and dreams and all sorts of things swirling around in my little brain.  Hopefully I will get a good readership base here. If not, at least my writing is good therapy for me, so I should feel better by the end of the day.

I chose the blog title because I want this to be my own little corner of the world where I can meet other like-minded individuals to share my hopes, dreams, complaints(from time to time) and just random thoughts that I have to share with anyone who feels they are worth reading.  And I hope people will comment, and I can comment back, and people will share their hopes, dreams or complaints with me as well. Kind of like that bar on Cheers where everybody knows your name. I can't believe I just said that. It took me forever to get that song out of my head, after hearing it on some TV commercial over the holidays.

I couldn't tell you what the product was that was being sold while that song was on, I tuned out the commercial just not the goofy song.

Anyway, when reading my blog, I want it to feel like we are sitting on my front porch.  The front of my wrap-around porch, back in the Midwest. There is a cool summer breeze that comes across every so often and I have a nice tall Venti Berry Hibiscus Tea packed with ice. In the winter that would be a Grande Peppermint Mocha(with whipped cream, please and thank you). We'd be sitting on my bench swing that creaks every so often, and my children would be catching fireflies as the sun begins to set.

I remember a long time ago, when I was around 26 or so, I met a woman named Myrtle. She was my best friend; she was 75. I learned so much from Myrtle and I remember getting teased at work for having a best friend who was 75. I didn't care. She and I would sit on her porch, in the wee hours of the morning drinking coffee, and we would talk about anything and everything there was to talk about.

And ohhhhh boy did we gossip. She knew it all, and I learned how to know it all too. I'm a nosy pollack by nature, it's in my blood, but when she and I got together, it was a "hoot and a holler fest" with Myrtle.

She was from Missouri. And she had this southern accent that I just loved hearing echo from her. She would say crazy, silly things like "...and he was higher than a Georgia Pine", or "All the good men died in the war" when I'd talk about dating again and my horrible luck with men. We use to watch Maury Povich and Montel Williams and just giggle at those goofy people on the TV.  She made me laugh. I miss her so much. The last time I talked to her I was pregnant with my twin boys. I hadn't told her I was pregnant, and wanted to wait until I had the boys to share the news. She wasn't feeling well that time I called her.  Little did I know that would be our last phone call.

She died that August, in Pensacola, Florida.

I had called her house after the birth of my boys, in October. Her husband answered, he couldn't hear very well and his health was deteriorating. After he finally understood what I was asking, he told me "Myrtle went to be with our Lord and Savior." It took everything in me not to start balling on the phone. I gave my condolences, asked her husband how he was doing, and that was the last time I spoke with him.

Damn I miss them both.

Anyway, I loved Myrtle and her husband more than anything. They were so good to my children, so good to me and we helped one another out so many times when we could. I would be a listening ear to her, and she would be the same.  I sent a message to her daughter on Facebook, but she never wrote back. I guess some people don't want a constant reminder of the people who were connected to their deceased loved ones. Too many memories?

I don't know.

Anyway, I want to have a front porch like that some day. Where a single mom who is just getting by finds a good friend to go to lunch with, share coffee with, or cry on a shoulder with. That was Myrtle.  I want to be just like her. She had a good, welcoming heart. Her door was always open to me and my children.  She had a true gift of unconditional love. I really do miss her.

So join me on my front porch here on the internet. Let's discuss, debate, cry, laugh, vent, and do all those things that Myrtle and I did in a little town in Indiana a long time ago.

Let's be friends.