The house where I spent my growing-up years had a wonderful porch that reached across the entire front. Dad put new screen around the porch every year or two. Mom and I would go out on the porch to paint our fingernails and our toenails. I would work on my coloring book there while mom read or watched my baby brother play. Everybody would go out to the porch during a rainstorm to watch. Sometimes I even got to sleep on the porch in a sleeping bag.
Mom would set the card table up on the porch and we’d have little sandwiches and cookies and iced tea for lunch. Sometimes my grandma would join us. They'd help me dress up like a lady with one of moms hats, some high heeled shoe, one of her dresses which would drag on the floor. Sometimes they'd put ropes of necklaces on me to match my dress. I felt so pretty and dainty. Grandma and mom would put jewelery on too. Pop beads were popular when I was little. I remember grandma and mom wearing necklaces of pop-beads to one of our "teas."
Dad would come in for lunch and gobble down everything we hadn’t eaten. Mom and I would laugh at dad. His hands were rough and stained. He would laugh too when his big fingers wouldn’t fit through the little handles on the tea cups. He’d uncurl his pinkie finger and stick it straight up trying to look dainty. He looked funny holding those petite cookies and sandwiches with those husky fingers.