theinfamousmissbeth

On a recent very early morning flight, a couple with two small children in tow struggled down the aisle towards me. The man resembled a pack animal of some sort and held the hand of a blond headed little girl. The woman had a diaper bag over one arm and carried a blond headed little boy in the other.  They all collapsed into the seats in the row behind me. They lived in Vermont and had spent the previous night with Grandma in Connecticut (they already missed her) and were on the way to Mexico for a family vacation. The little girl was Lily and the baby brother was Waylon. I know all of this because, with the exception of about three minutes , two minutes  one minute (of the two hour and 6 minute flight), when Lily enjoyed a juice box, she chattered non-stop.  As we waited to taxi out to the runway, Lily asked her mom if she could have the phone. I'm not sure what a 3 year old was going to do with the phone, but apparently very young children using phones is a "thing"

I didn't grow up in a porch sitting kind of family. My house was ranch style and while we had what would pass as a patio, there was not a porch. You know the kind that had a railing and a place for a swing. I'm talking about that kind of porch. I do a lot of porch sitting now, however. Well, technically it's a deck with a screened in part that we call "the porch", but it certainly serves the purpose. It's my firm belief that porch sitting is essential to my physical and mental well being.  For me, it is a place to eat breakfast or lunch, read, write,  daydream, watch the birdies taking a bath, watch the pups  stalk squirrels, and simply "take the sun". My mother-in-law recently passed away. While thinking of what I could say at the funeral service, aside from the fact that she was a sweet and supportive mother to her three sons and a "non-invasive" mother-in-law to me and her other daughters-in-law, the main thing that came to my mi