This Porch Is Made For Walkin'

Let me take you on a tour. Don't cost nothin'. You don't even have to buy a map of the movie stars' homes. I'll escort you myself, on a walking tour of where Mrs. Hillbilly Mom walks every day. Well, not every day, because some days she walks at school in the hall, where it is climate-controlled, and where she is truly a celebrity. This she knows because so many people stop her to chat, even though she is on a mission to walk at least 30 minutes every day.

Mrs. HM's home away from school is the wrap-around porch of her Mansion. It is cushier to the feet than the tile school hallway, although the back section by the kitchen is a bit too cushy at times, what with needing some boards replaced because they are not under the overhang of the roof, and Missouri weather wreaks havoc with untreated lumber. Come on. You didn't think Private Contractor H actually kept up the Mansion like those Thompson WaterSeal people recommend, did you?

We'll begin at the front door, stepping out the threshold onto the five-foot span, taking care not to bump the decorative black metal mail box full of wasp nests, and ignoring the nonworking doorbell. A quick left turn sets us in motion for a counterclockwise romp around the walking track that is Mrs. HM's porch. Careful, now. The entire front of the house has no porch rail.

Stride past the picture window to the living room on your left, and glance at the plastic spinny thingies my grandma made for me out of 2-liter soda bottles on the right, dangling just below the dark brown metal guttering with last year's Christmas lights still attached. Make that five years ago's Christmas lights. No need to take them down for 11 months of the year. This is the country, by cracky!

Just past the rosebush on the ground to your right, make a 90-degree left turn. Silly. If you kept walking straight, you would have toppled over the rail of the side porch, and tumbled toward the Hillmomba Zoo. It only has chickens and goats and rabbits right now, but I am expecting an elephant any day.

The side porch showcases the DISH Network dish. It gives good transponder here. The path narrows a bit due to two large plastic doghouses with cedar shavings spilling out. Such a soothing sound from within the master bedroom, those doggies scratching and growling as they settle in for a long winter's night.

Club Momba is now in sight. Careful, or you'll topple over the back porch rail and fall nine feet to the Poolio Deck. A sharp left turn takes you into the back porch proper, with french doors to the master bedroom on your left, and Club Momba's regulars pussyfooting along Poolio's edge in the abyss to your right. The Regulars love to push the envelope. The envelope being Poolio's silvery plastic winter cover, weighted down with rain water that is a delicacy for The Regulars. They walk on ice to sip a single slurp.

Against the wall to the left are three silver serving dishes, because dogs don't share, and an old school desk with a lidded wastebasket full of dogfood on top. Also occupying the desktop is a big round fish bowl that once housed The Goldfish Who Wouldn't Die, received by the #1 son as a parting gift from preschool. He was briefly mourned at the end of 1st Grade. Just past the desk, donated by my mom, most likely from an expired school, we find the laundry room door.

If you keep walking straight, you will step your left foot into an electric doggie water bowl, and ram your face into the first of three kitchen windows that jut out from the back of the house like half a hexagon. Wooooo! Raise your arms over your head for this sideways roller coaster leg of the tour. Don't panic. There's still a rail to protect you from the 12-foot drop on the right.

Quick now, jaunt left a bit so as to miss the two Weber grills in your path as you disembark from the coaster ride. The kitchen door is on your left, if you care to grab a beverage. Don't smack your head on that metal bell mounted beside the door frame. Collector H wanted it for some reason. Along the wall is a welcome mat that the dogs have commandeered for sleeping, and The Pony's bedroom window. This area is the widest part of the porch trail, big enough for a small dance floor. Over the rail past the Webers is the brackish green Hillbilly Fish Pond. Don't knock it. There are goldfish in there about a foot long. Not that you can see them unless they come up out of the murk for food.

Another 90-degree left turn takes you along the side porch by the garage. No more rail, but four steps down will get you to the concrete sidewalk. Branching left off of that is the brick sidewalk that goes around front of the Mansion, made by Bricklayer H out of bricks that used to be an alley behind my house in town. The $17,000 house.

But let's stay on the porch, and continue past the cedar support pole that is a home for wood bees. Every summer, Entomologist H seals up their hole with putty, and every summer they tunnel out again. That pole must look like Swiss cheese on the inside. Tread lightly here. A hop, skip, and a jump puts you at the front corner of the porch, overlooking the five-acre front yard. Shame on you. I told you to tread lightly. Enough with the hopping and skipping and jumping!

A sharp left brings us to the front of the Mansion again, with #1's bedroom window on the left, and three metal chairs and two stools used as tables that Home Decor Expert H put there. Watch your step, because we are still without a rail, though the drop here is only three feet into the lava rock that is the base for Mineralogist H's rock garden.

That concludes our tour. Hope you had a good workout. Exit down the front porch steps to your right.