I do not have a back yard swing, but rather one on my front porch. As the days are getting warmer, I find myself there creating the most relaxing rhythm with only the slight push of my toe. As a friend mentioned the other day, "The soothing contemplation done from a porch swing compares to nothing else in the world." I'm finding this is true.
A reoccurring springtime rumination is where to find good skirts. I like skirts. In fact, I like skirts best. Perhaps the years of wearing uniform skirts, picked up from the floor of my bedroom and pulled on for the second or third day, left an impression of ease and reliability. One day in high school, walking down a long breezeway, a particularly sour sort of girl said from behind me, "I wish I had a swing like that in my backyard." It had embarrassed me at the time, but now I think she would have been a lot more fun if she had.
Skirts then appeared by magic (otherwise known as "Mother") and hung, briefly, three in a row on the low bar in my closet. Now I must find them myself. So many are either too expensive or two short. But today, this gem landed in my e:mailbox and a quick click turned up several attractive cousins as well. Ann Mashburn, no surprise. Here.