Living Downtown

Note: I posted this on an old website that I was having problems with. It speaks a lot about who I am so I decided to repost it here.

I have to say that living downtown in a southern city does have it's perks. My husband and I call it "porch time." Our home has a big white (It's actually kind of gray with wood tones due to lack of paint.) wrap-around porch with one of those vintage metal porch couches. The cushions are old and are full of pollen and what ever else is airborn at the time. Comfy enough to sit on but old enough not to care if a kid spills Kool-Aid.

Every afternoon, more or less, Tony and I have cocktails on the porch and play some board or card game. Ah 5 o'clock! The magic hour when everything seems right in the world. The birds are chirping, the bees are buzzing, the mosquitoes are biting, children are fighting over whose turn it is to do whatnot, and everyone in the neighborhood is out of the house after a busy day to see who's out and about. Usually, we all end up on someone's porch to either celebrate or commiserate about the events of the day. Once the time changes and the days are longer, bedtimes in my house seem to go right out the window because we usually are "visiting" until at least 8 o'clock. Who cares! School will be out soon and at least the little trolls aren't sitting on the couch zoning into Cartoon Network land.

We're very lucky. We have everyday in our neighborhood that which most only have on weekends. If you're in the suburbs, that might be never.