Welcome

I've always longed for friends who come over to my house, knock just a bit as they enter, and walk to the fridge to get their own drinks.  It's a longshot at this point, as that was not modeled in my childhood, nor have I cultivated any relationships like that yet. Except for Sheridan of course, but she's five, and has always tromped right in.  

Or I'd like to have the porch that everyone hangs out on at night.  In the day, it's pretty crowded.  Neighbors use my porch whether I am there or not, and I learned a few years ago that a church friend used to use my rocker as a half way stop on her sojourn around the block after knee surgery.  I love the day activity, don't get me wrong.  Kids, moms and grandmothers sitting on the wicker or on the stoop.  But, there's something about night visitors.  The more hushed conversations.  Candles, maybe, christmas lights in June.  

Today, I had a great day.  Buying fifteen plants at Gale's (thanks to my brother's awesome holiday gift).  Conferred with a man there, Tim, who was incredibly helpful.  Three more at Bremec's, while supporting HRRC.   I swept out a back bed of hostas.  I sanded and restained the porch floor.  I washed the screens, pulled out the deck furniture and the porch furniture.  I paid bills, took a mid-day bath, washed windows.  Watched two boys make a pulley system in my Japanese maple and yank a chair into mid-air.   But the best moment I had was a ten minute conversation with Erin.  

We really did not hem and haw, we went right at it.  Talked about our desire to become writers -- paid and successful writers.  The fear, sometimes paralyzing, that comes with that. The self-doubt and the tendency for perfection.  I love those kinds of conversations, the ones that start well past hello.  It felt right to toss my dream out there into the air.  I'm sure it sailed a bit, following the knock of the woodpecker, or the scent of the lilac.  Swirled around Erin's dream too, in a playful way.  It was a good day to loose the cautious grip I have on this desire. Maybe dreams deserve to take a walk about, see the sights, and decide whether or not that want to make a home in you.  

When I went to Target today to buy a new doormat, I was not thrilled with the choices.  I wanted something like what I got last year.  More floral.  But I settled on this one, and looking at it now, it seems like the one that matches my mood and my resolve.  I am usually more reserved with my welcomes, more worrisome, but maybe it's time to be more brazen.  Welcome day visitors.  Welcome nighttime companions.  Welcome beer seeking friends (it's on the low shelf in the door of my fridge).  Welcome dreams.  Welcome fellow dreamers.  Welcome strangers.  Welcome future.  Welcome today.  And, of course, welcome the night.