For years, we've been feeling naive about having bought our house: a too-big fixer-upper that we'll never have the money or skills to fix up. It wasn't in the neighborhood we wanted, we thought it was ugly and run down with too many weird small rooms, and the yard a steep triangle, but, and that's a big but, it has three porches.* There's one glass porch with old paned windows, one screened porch that feels like a treehouse, and a huge open wraparound porch.
It's this third porch that is lately making the house feel like a genius move. It's been beautiful, with views of the mountains and lots of moving air and lots of cats. We've sat on the porch to watch the World Cup, to work, to eat meals, and to watch the moon rise. Getting to be on the porch during all the summer rainstorms has definitely been the kicker.
The old crumbling porch has proven to be more satisfying than the not so old, falling apart pool. Excuse me while I get back to patching.
*and a rootcellar!