From the Front Porch Looking In

As a fundraiser for the Mexico team, a business owner offered them $1,000 if they would pass out 10,000 fliers for his business.

Ten.

Thousand.

They used one day to pass them out as a team, then the ones left over were dispersed among team members to do on their own.

At the end of May, Kelly and I set out to pass out the 196 fliers she had brought home.

One.

Hundred.

Ninety.

Six.

The task seemed so daunting and so overwhelming that we both put it off as long as we could. Finally, we grabbed hats, sunscreen, water bottles, and fliers and set out in our neighborhood (and the neighborhood next to us) to finish the task.

At first it seemed as if our hands could barely hold all the small, plastic-coated fliers. After an hour, I glanced over at Kelly across the street and said, "My stack seems much smaller!"

"Mine does, too!"

Encouraged, we continued on. Soon we were down to just 20 fliers each, then 15/14, then 9/6. With the last flier held above my head in triumph, we placed it on the last door.

"Text Mr. H right now and tell him we're DONE!"

It was our moment of triumph.

During this process, I became convicted of the appearance of our front door. How does it look to people who stop by to visit? What about to people who are dropping off fliers, as we were?

What does my front porch say about my family?

I can tell you that after this experience, your front porch says volumes.

Here's ours:


There's a story about a young housewife who was preparing for her mother-in-law to visit. She spent literal days scrubbing the house from top to bottom. She prepared the guest room and added special touches. She planned a menu, went grocery shopping, and had everything prepared. She put candles about the house and even bought and laundered new guest towels. Finally, the doorbell rang.

There was her mother-in-law frowning at the door, shaking out the dirty welcome mat.




Some of these houses definitely showed pride of ownership.



Everything is neat and clean. Some thought has been put into landscape and ornamentation.






Even with the dry spell we've had (hence some bare spots on the lawns) there is at least trimming and all trashed cleaned up.












I made Himself drive around with me so I could take pictures. We felt very "stalker-ish" in the task, but it was sort of fun!

Some of the houses looked great. Then, some of them started to become questionable.

This one could use a trim, but still not bad.



This is a horrible picture because we didn't dare slow down to snap the photograph. It's the home of "Hip-Hop Harry" (as Himself refers to him), of S.W.A.T. Team fame.

Note the weight equipment and punching bag in the carport.



The next two are also on my street.



I know this one is hard to see, but it belongs to Crazy Linda. If Himself would have had the courage to roll down his window, we would have gotten a better shot, but definitely not a place to pause, either.

(This picture was deleted because it contained a license plate, and I didn't have time to figure out how to blur them out.)


Where's the front door?



This entire front area is covered with mold. I inhaled it when I walked up to the door, and the roof was about six inches thick with pine needles.



Color choices, people! Color choices! It's enough to make a painter wince!

(This picture also had a license plate. The house is BRIGHT ORANGE with PEACH TRIM. Can you see it?)

This TV has been there for about a week. Thieves don't even want it . . . not without a digital converter.



Please don't park on the lawn.


(Photo deleted. It was a van parked on the lawn.)


Even if it's a Mercedes! Don't park on the lawn.



Next came the obligatory couch on the sidewalk. This one was so full of mold I about gagged as I walked up to the house. Trash was everywhere, and YES, the house was occupied.



A cute patio ruined by an ugly couch.



This one was empty and the renovation was in progress. I think it will be cute when it's done!


What does your front porch say about you?

I hope mine says things like, "Welcome!"

"We're not neat-freaks, but we care."

"We wash regularly!"

Hopefully, it doesn't say what I saw on some porches:

"Gloom."

"Despair."

"Agony."

"I quit."