Feral cats had shredded the hemp-wrapped rocking chair on Eliza's front porch. She had plants growing in a variety of broken crockery and chipped enameled cooking kettles.
I was painting a canvas in her kitchen on Valentine's Day when there was a knock on the door. It turned out to be a teenage boy delivering flowers. He had a bad combination of lead feet and a heavy step. He handed over the flowers and apologized for breaking the porch. Yes, the rotting boards on the porch had decided that this was just one person too many, and the young man's foot had gone through the porch floor. I found a hammer and an old board and nailed what I thought was a temporary fix to the opening. That was good enough for Eliza, and that's the way it stayed.
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