That day was yesterday. My body demanded that I not try to sing - on the porch or elsewhere - the voice is going through some nasty adjustments (and I don't adjust well). But my heart was out there singing, and there was much more room for that out there than my actual body trying to find a place to sit.
I recall many porches, and many singalongs, as well as solo performances, and have always enjoyed that ambiance, as long as the bug population is at a minimum and it doesn't get too cold to play an instrument (Butch's saw told him when to stop long before he or I wanted to - saws don't bend well in the cold).
I am reminded of a song that includes a verse about family singing together and I share it here. Hope that whether your singing is taking place on a porch or elsewhere, that your enjoyment of the experience provides you with lasting memories . . . I cherish ones that I have and look forward to sharing another with y'all next week.
"Music in my Mother's House" - by Stuart Stotts, (c) 1985, performed by Ronnie Gilbert on her 1989 recording.
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