Porch Setting
by Mack Samples, macksamples.com
(Originally published in Two-Lane Livin’ Magazine, September 2016)
When the hot spell hit in late July this year my central air conditioning system went out the first day it arrived. It did not get repaired for nine days. So we got to relive the summers of our youth--when nobody had any air conditioning of any kind.
The days were not too bad. I worked outside all day like I normally do and a person kind of gets acclimated to the heat. The weedeater has replaced the mowing scythe that I used to swing in my youth. I guess it's supposed to be a labor-saving device but I am not so sure that it is. Cutting filth on a steep bank is still a hot job. But I found the hardest part was coming back to the house and trying to cool down.
The result of all of this was that Thelma and I found ourselves doing a lot of porch sitting, especially after supper. Needless to say, all of that porch setting brought back a lot of memories of my youth. I guess "sitting" is the proper term but no one ever pronounced it that way back in the day. It was always porch "setting."
During the hot, sultry dog days during the 1950s, aunts, uncles, and cousins would often congregate on our porch after the sun dipped over the ridge. The swing and glider would usually be occupied as well as the banisters that surrounded the porch.
There was lots of conversation about the gardens, canning, blackberry picking, and, of course, the inevitable fishing tales since we lived near the river. Camping trips back into the hills were planned and the cousins all schemed on how to get enough money to go to town Saturday and take in a good western movie. There was always a filth-cutting job, hay harvest job, or corn-hoeing job somewhere in the neighborhood that would generate a dollar or two.
But the Samples Clan always produced music in one form or another during most of the porch sitting sessions. If a revival meeting was coming up soon at the local church the cousins used the porch sitting times to work our four-part harmony on the old hymns. Then, when the revival hit, we would knock their socks off during the congregation singing. But mostly we just sang the old songs that called for good harmony singing. "Now is the Hour" and "Halls of Ivy" and some of the old Stephen Foster songs come to mind.
Since Thelma and I don't live close to anyone, relatives or otherwise, our porch sitting consisting of enjoying some time away from the television, computers, and reading. The young deer often put on a show for us chasing one another around the meadow. One evening we got to watch a flock of young turkeys riding over the autumn olive branches and feasting on the berries.
The hardest part of all during the hot spell was trying to get some sleep in a hot, sweaty bed. That's when we admitted that modern life had really spoiled us. As a last resort, we could retreat to the basement to sleep where the temperature was about ten degrees cooler.