As you begin to make your way in the world, you will, at some point, venture to set up housekeeping, whether it is in a tiny cabin in the wood, a neat house in a safe and well-manicured neighborhood, an apartment in the big city, or perhaps a cozy, refurbished Shasta camper trailer. Regardless of your accommodations, my first bit of advice for keeping with McIntyre family tradition, is to install for yourself and your future folk, a country porch swing.
The country porch swing is the most important feature of the country home, and it is ever-so-vital to country living to own one in order to experience, to the fullest potential, the fresh breezes, refreshing beverages, and half-true tales that might be told there. I’d have to say that I received almost all the education I would ever really need to survive in the world while sitting on a porch swing. It is where my mother rocked and prayed over me, where Grandma played “Eensy Weensy Spider” and sang “Oh Jolly Playmate” for little ones, where my aunts skinned tomatoes, husked corn, and kissed their boyfriends, and where our uncles smoked cigarettes, spit chew, played cards, planned hunts, argued about the government and devised strategies to challenge the wisdom of the Old Farmer’s Almanac.
Some people regarded our humble, God-fearing grandparents as poor country folk, but late at night, after everyone went home, they rocked together on their creaky old porch swing and gazed out upon their sixty-two acres of farmland that was thick with flourishing crops, flickering lightning bugs, and toys that had been scattered by joyful grandchildren. They were rich above most modern definitions of wealth… the King and Queen of McIntyre Hollow, and every time I see a porch swing, I remember who I am, where I come from, and what I’m about.
Copyright 2016, Christine M. Snow