Our house. I sometimes wonder what people think when they come upon it for the first time. The body is a dark purple and the trim is orange. I used to insistently call the colors of our house by the names I chose when I went searching for that perfect combination of something striking, yet fun. The names of the colors are ripe fig and orange marmelade. I would insist when Moose described our house as purple and orange, that it was actually "ripe fig and marmelade". Do you know how pretentious and ridiculous that sounds? Can anyone truly visualize ripe fig?
I am going to say, no. Hence, I threw up my hands a while back and finally gave in to the truth.
Our house is purple and orange.
It is surrounded on two sides in front by a picket fence of the same colors and the third side borders our neighbors 8 or 10 foot tall side fence, built I am told, to keep anyone on our front porch from being able to look at them when they are eating on their side deck. I can't say I really blame them.
At any given time, there is a hodgepodge of children's play things strewn haphazardly across the fenced portion of our yard, on the sidewalk, in the space between sidewalk and street. A small-child sized play/slide structure also shares that space. along with a raised bed built out of remant pieces of granite in varying sizes, sculpted together with mortar and stones, which James did last year when he was going through his "tiling" phase. To truly describe it is difficult. Eclectic, might give you an idea....
On one side of the fenced portion of our yard, another remnant of James' tiling phase is the mortar and tile walkway with no particular pattern to it, winding its way through the yard. The tiles were laid more as a result of whatever he could pick up from the habitat for humanity resale store and while there isn't truly a pattern, there is something of a symmetry to it that is at once interesting to look at, as well as somewhat offputing. This side contained our mostly failed vegetable garden of last year, which I have since moved to a different area. Now it contains ornamental plants, an extraordinarily large rosemary bush (read: more like a tree) and a suffering lavendar.
And more children's toys. Always the toys.
On the front porch, a very old and tattered native american-style rug covers the majority of floor space. An old lazy-boy type chair Moose and I bought for $50 before Max was born, provides the only seating. There's a double stroller and the wooden shelving, which used to hold Max's dialysis cycler and supplies back in the day.
And the other side of the yard contains a huge rhodedendron, long since grown into a tree and a chicken coop fashioned like a small red barn with a six foot run attached. There are three two month old chickens peck, peck, pecking and cheep, cheep, cheeping inside. Lola, the cat, prowls around. Sprawls around is probably also a great descriptor.
The driveway holds no cars or vehicles of any type. We've sprawled out into the driveway and it now contains a long raised bed, where the majority of my vegetable garden can now be found. It is the only space on the property with truly unobstructed sun from about 11 am or noon till after 6 or 7 at night.
This is our house from the outside. During the late spring and summer, we, hold court on the front porch, the yard. During the late spring and into the summer, the sounds of my boys riding their tricycles up and down the sidewalk is a constant. The sound of their laughter, their screams, their fighting, their bear and tiger-like growls, fills the air. It is music to me.
Probably less so for our neighbors.
I know I have mentioned this numerous times previously, but Portland is truly spectacular in the summer and even though I am not quite sure yesterday's temperature of 71 degrees would qualify it as "true" summer, it was brilliantly sunny and warm enough to spend the entire day on the front porch and within the confines of our front yard. Which we did.
As I rocked my daughter to sleep on the front porch for her naps and finally for bed, I listened to my boys chattering away. The fact that they hold entire, full-sentence conversations with one another, never ceases to amaze and delight me, especially since it was not altogether long ago I despaired Max would never speak like a normal child. Recently, I was reading back over old blog entries and I came upon one where I was worried because Rowan's speech was developing slower than I would have liked. I was convinced it was because Max was behind and Ro is so highly imitative, that he would only mimic the way Max spoke.
I still believe this was true....
It no longer is.
I marvelled as I sat on the porch, how distinctly sublime my life seems at these moments. We have come full circle once again. Was it really last summer that my primary worry was money? Did I really spend the entire summer obsessed and worried about paying our bills? Did I find myself having to do yoga every single day as a means of taking my mind off of financial issues?
The answer is, yes.
But once again...we've made it through the darkness and the light has begun to shine upon us once again. We prevailed.
We always prevail...
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