Swing

At our old house, we had the porch of porches. It was awesome. Wrap around and wiiiiide.

Beautiful view. You saw the pictures. It was the perfect porch for a swing.


When we got married, one of our gifts from my uncle was a beautiful and unique black porch swing. It was perfect. It fit perfectly on the far end of our porch overlooking the stunning mountain views. We had no intention of ever moving it.

Until we moved.


We have a comparably teeny tiny porch now. A porch that is soon to be enclosed (oh, another project) and turned into a vestibule/entrance/mudroom.

There is no room for the swing.

Since July when we moved in, the swing has been stored but I've thought and thought about where to put it so we can enjoy those warm summer nights just a swingin'.


The other day while taking the dogs for a romp around the farm, I found it. The perfect spot.


We have this tree. It looks as if 140 mph winds are blowing it to the east at all times. In reality, some dingle cut it that way and the massive oak that was next to the house (recently removed due to nearing foundation damage) was also blocking its sunshine.


It's rather sad looking actually but, per my usual, I like perceivably ugly and odd things and persuaded Collin to spare it.


It has two nearly horizontal branches. One small and one large. I am quite sure that the large branch (note to self: double check how sure) will hold our beautiful swing plus people.



Not only is it a prime swing holding site, it overlooks the pond and hay fields for a perfect farm view.



Que John Anderson...

"And we were swingin'

Yes we were swingin'

Swingin'"



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