Welcome to my front porch, I'm so glad you stopped by. Let me tell you why I chose this title. I was born and raised in West Virginia, where almost every home had a front porch. It was where family and friends gathered in all seasons. It is where I learned about the birds and the bees; but not like you think. It is where we sat and listened to the birds singing in the trees, and where we would watch the Bees go from flower to flower and listen to the buzzing sound of their wings. It made an eerrie sound, and I had learned not to disturb them. Butterflies of all descriptions fluttered around in a special dance of springtime. In the Summer time it was where we sat and drank ice cold lemonade or refreshing iced-tea. Mama would serve up fresh baked pies made from all the fruits of our garden. Daddy loved to garden and Mama loved to perserve everything he grew. She canned and froze every type of vegetable, and made pickled anything that could be pickled, and she always sto0red up the "Goodies" that would make a fresh baked pie. My favorite was her strawberry/rhuhbarb pie. You seldom hear of that anymore, but it was perfect when Mama made it. In the Fall of the year you would find Mama's porch decorated with pumpkins, and leaves, and maize, and a scarecrow...it was just the beginnings for one of her favorite holidays...Halloween. She loved taking us girls trick-or-treating in the neighborhood, and she loved passing out candy to see how every one was dressed. Fall of the year meant preparing for Thanksgiving. After the food had been served, the family had gone home, the kitchen had been cleaned Mama would retire to the front porch with me, to have a slice of the pie she did not have with her dinner, and of course I at that time had to treat myself to something I didn't have at the dinner table. But Winter...Now that was my favorite time spent on our front porch. Mama and I would cover up in a warm blanket and sip hot chocolate. She wouldn't dream of this store bought stuff, no, hers was always made from Hershey's Chocolate, and boiled on the stove. It was wonderful. Mama didn't care too much for snow, but while Daddy was living it was our playground. I have so many fond memories of Daddy and me enjoying that great season of snow falling down known as Winter..