Our front porch has always been a source of inspiration–and pride–for me. When we knew this was the home for us, the very first purchase we made for it was an outdoor wicker set–a couch, two chairs, and a small table. Visions of lazy summer days followed by even lazier summer nights accompanied the purchase. Hooks and hardware were installed to house a fragrant and colorful array of plants–an empty horticultural canvas that could be wiped clean and reinvented each season. Gardening magazines were combed for ideas; and when the porch floor needed to be replaced in 2004, we went with cedar, knowing our love affair with our porch was forever.
And now we have small boys who have their own ideas as to what looks great on our porch.
This might be an alligator, or it could be a crocodile (I’ll defer to my Floridian friends for that); but, fret not, it’s not real. However, Oscar and Edgar think it looks absolutely splendid near our front door–a sort of unofficial greeter to our visitors, who, when they get a load of our new friend, may not stay too long.
It’s not the porch decor I imagined–but, then again, how could it be: My imagination, compared to that of a four- and five-year-old is lacking, relying on pretty pictures in glossy magazines to actualize its vision. Oscar and Edgar saw their alligator (or crocodile) and decided it needed to be on our front porch. Pure and simple. And, of course, I’m leaving it there–at least until the City of Newport tells us to bring it in the house because it’s terrifying the citizenry.