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Dear Devin,
Porches are extremely
underappreciated. Many think they exist solely for decorating the
entrance to their house. They hang whatnots like Christmas tree
decorations and leave them to fade with time. What a disgrace to such an
indispensable place in our lives.
Hanging in my office is a picture of my grandfather, Wiley Taylor. I
never knew him since he died long before my time. He's a good looking
man with brown wavy hair, dressed in his fresh suit. As a dirt farmer in
South Georgia in the 1800-1900's I seriously doubt he wore that suit
very often. Why do I bring him up when I'm talking about porches? It was
Granddaddy Taylor who first got me interested in them. I can still
vividly recall Grandma telling me the story while sitting on her porch
in Thomasville, Georgia when I was young. I often spent long hot summer
days staying with Grandma and to escape the heat of her house, we'd do
like everyone else did before the days of air-conditioning; we'd go to
the porch for the afternoon to escape the rising heat indoors.
Grandma tells the story like this . . .
Potty Chair Grace
Have you ever potty trained a little one? I've not had the distinct privilege of doing it all alone, but I've helped a little here and there along the gruesome process. Nothing like stinking diapers, missing the target on the potty chair or just plain laziness on the part of the trainee to mess up what would otherwise have been a good morning's cup of coffee. I've heard that boys are harder to potty train than girls, wonder why? Devin, our grandson, was just three and all boy when it came to things like this. But I'm getting a little ahead of the story, so let me digress.
Man in the Mirror
I
heard a preacher say, “I’m telling you the truth, and why do I say that?
Because, I’ve been known to tell a lie!” Go ahead and say it. I know you
want to, “Amen!”. There are lies and then, there’s the “exaggerated
truth” which means that it’s not really a lie, just the truth expanded
upon. Right?
May I
ask you, have you ever lied? Okay, I know that was a little straight
forward, so let me ask you, how’s your integrity doing lately?
When I
can’t stand being trapped inside my house any longer, I take a
sanity therapy outing to the Bass Pro store, or as more
affectionately called by my brother, “Wally
World!”. After a couple of hours checking out the new gadgets
that’ll help me become a better hunter and fisherman, I’m ready to
reenter the world of the living.
Each
time I pass through their doors I’m confronted with these words
inscribed overhead, “Welcome Fishermen, Hunters, and Other Liars.” I
can’t help but smile as I enter the doors knowing the stories I’ve heard
from outdoorsmen over the years.