I woke up very early today (far earlier than I usually ever do) and went to sit on my porch. It is a very nice porch. I am fond. I know I will miss it.

In the morning it gets lots of sunlight. I am fond of the sun. In much the same way that a worm enjoys wriggling, I enjoy seeing my shadow on a sunny day. It reminds me that I’m alive, which is fun. (Sometimes, I take a picture of my shadow and send it to a long distance friend.)

On the porch is a coffee-table, and on the coffee-table is a small teacup that gets used on-and-off as an ashtray. (Currently there is one butt.)

I like to sit on my porch and watch the world do its thing. I watched a little girl ride her scooter down the sidewalk, but slowly, one push at a time, putting her whole body into it, as if the act of pushing a scooter was for her, as it is for many children, a moderately pleasurable end in itself.

I was reminded of something else: the skulls. On my porch are an assortment of animal bones (two skulls!) that Eloise dug up in the garden two autumns ago. We will never know who buried them around the garden, or why. The skulls continue to stand guard on our porch. I like to imagine that they trouble the mailmen. I like to imagine the mailmen talk about them. (“That one house with the skulls,” they say.)

Kelly joined me for a while, and we discussed her love of inspirational sports movies. She told me her parents don’t make her younger brother do the dishes. She said she wants to hate big pickup trucks, but can’t help loving them because they are so funny.

(A car just drove by – its passenger side window was a duct-taped piece of wood.)

There is a red rocking-chair on my porch that is ‘Eric’s chair.’He likes to rock it back and forth. I’m glad somebody out there invented the rocking chair. I like to imagine that person smiling in heaven, looking down at all of us enjoying our perfect chairs.

And, of course, there are lots of mugs strewn around the porch (with dingy metal spoons). All the potted plants are dead.

I get to sit here all day and watch the clouds. Maybe if I’m lucky, an ant will come and crawl on my arm for a while.

Isn’t it funny to think that one day we will all be dead? (I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do with this information)

I am reminded of a Kurt Vonnegut quote:

“Many people need desperately to receive this message: I feel and think much as you do, care about many of the things you care about, although most people do not care about them. You are not alone.”

Thank you for reading my column!

Goodbye for now. Until next time. So long.