Hi friends. In the spring some nice men spent about six weeks building a screened-in porch on my house. I was not quite prepared for how much it would change my life in that I am only interested in sitting on it and going nowhere else, especially in the mornings and evenings when it is cooler, but also, frankly, whenever, it is just so pleasant to be there, on this porch. Who needs a social life when you have a porch? What is a “bar” or a “restaurant” or a “cafe” — sure, these things exist, I know, and there are people there that I could meet, but I’ll just be over here on the porch by myself if anyone needs me. It was nice knowing you.
no, you never phone it in, which i really appreciate. the toilet death of twitter really sucks, as does trying to replace it. don't want to do threads, bluesky is nice but tiny, i've started following writers on IG but it feels weirdly personal seeing all y'all's pix. and on tiktok, my algorithm quickly went from books to pets and cooking lol. maybe it's a good thing. i'd love a world where obligatory self-promotion on social media became obsolete. access to newsletters like yours is awesome, and feels more genuine, but it's obvious it takes time and energy—so thank you.
Congratulations on the porch, Jami! I have spent hours on mine this year, mornings and evenings. In fact, this is the opening paragraph I sent to my editor just yesterday:
"Greetings from a chilly porch in Montana! I’ve done my first couple hours of work out here most of the summer and I’ve recently had to accept that it probably isn’t going to be particularly warm again until June or July. Still, so long as the sandhill cranes in the neighboring fields are still calling in the morning, along with the geese and owls and occasional coyotes, it’s hard not to be out here too."
It's been the highlight of the summer, as far as I'm concerned. I'm happy for you.
I love my screened porch here in the NH mountains. It's chillier now so porch time is on its way out, unlike where you are, I expect. I also write and stare at the fields and sit with the dogs out there. You described it well. I am not mourning the death of Twitter because I love Substack, and I've found a community here that inspires me and the newsletters, like yours, are good reading that has no tinge of the scroll of doom that socials can deliver.
Before I even moved in to the home that has been mine for two years, almost exactly two years, I had the porch/deck which here we call "lanai" rebuilt. But now I want to cover it so I can sit outside even on evenings when it rains, as this time of year it must. And then the slippery slope. I will screen it in. And then because I still need a place to sit on sunny days, I will need a lanai off the lanai. Or maybe off the barn. So the barn which is held together by termites holding hands will need to be rebuilt as well. It could be the space that is my bar/cafe where I also welcome people. Because I still love people. Just not always in this particular space, quiet except for the call of the mynah in the flamboyant tree and the bray of the donkey in the yard next door.
“Barn held together by termites holding hands”. I grew up in a very small town in the Midwest and spent a lot of my youth goofing around in barns like this. Those words have me smelling hay through my coffee this morning. Thank you for that.
“…it was also a way we talked to each other, connected with strangers, so it wasn’t just a toy. It was a communication device. Now it’s like someone dropped your phone in the toilet.“—so true! I miss it but love this longer writing, too.
My sister and I spent a day whacking weeds and bushes and found my deck at the beginning of the summer. I dug out my patio set, bought an umbrella and made my deck pretty. I spend my mornings and evenings out here and don’t know why I took so long to embrace this space.
Twitter app on my phone still has a bird icon (I don't have automatic app update thing and I just refuse to update the app to an ugly x manually). So I looked at it today and thought: I feel sorry for the bird! Ok, maybe it's super silly, but I do. The bird did nothing wrong! It's that man...
I know the delight of a good porch, and here in Florida, a good sunroom. Ah:-) Joy!
I came to Substack to write for the fun of it and see where it leads me. Years back, I had a blog, then a blog styled newsletter. Soon it turned into this thing to convert readers to clients. Enter persuasive writing.
I want my readers to be readers and delight in my writing. I want them to love it so much that they look forward to it in their inbox and support it with their dollars. I want them to sit on their porch with a warm cuppa in the winter or cool drink in the summer and just savor the words.
Romanticized much? Maybe. Then again, I'm a die hard romantic.
I write on life and sometimes mysticism. It's woven together for me.
no, you never phone it in, which i really appreciate. the toilet death of twitter really sucks, as does trying to replace it. don't want to do threads, bluesky is nice but tiny, i've started following writers on IG but it feels weirdly personal seeing all y'all's pix. and on tiktok, my algorithm quickly went from books to pets and cooking lol. maybe it's a good thing. i'd love a world where obligatory self-promotion on social media became obsolete. access to newsletters like yours is awesome, and feels more genuine, but it's obvious it takes time and energy—so thank you.
Congratulations on the porch, Jami! I have spent hours on mine this year, mornings and evenings. In fact, this is the opening paragraph I sent to my editor just yesterday:
"Greetings from a chilly porch in Montana! I’ve done my first couple hours of work out here most of the summer and I’ve recently had to accept that it probably isn’t going to be particularly warm again until June or July. Still, so long as the sandhill cranes in the neighboring fields are still calling in the morning, along with the geese and owls and occasional coyotes, it’s hard not to be out here too."
It's been the highlight of the summer, as far as I'm concerned. I'm happy for you.
I love my screened porch here in the NH mountains. It's chillier now so porch time is on its way out, unlike where you are, I expect. I also write and stare at the fields and sit with the dogs out there. You described it well. I am not mourning the death of Twitter because I love Substack, and I've found a community here that inspires me and the newsletters, like yours, are good reading that has no tinge of the scroll of doom that socials can deliver.
Before I even moved in to the home that has been mine for two years, almost exactly two years, I had the porch/deck which here we call "lanai" rebuilt. But now I want to cover it so I can sit outside even on evenings when it rains, as this time of year it must. And then the slippery slope. I will screen it in. And then because I still need a place to sit on sunny days, I will need a lanai off the lanai. Or maybe off the barn. So the barn which is held together by termites holding hands will need to be rebuilt as well. It could be the space that is my bar/cafe where I also welcome people. Because I still love people. Just not always in this particular space, quiet except for the call of the mynah in the flamboyant tree and the bray of the donkey in the yard next door.
“Barn held together by termites holding hands”. I grew up in a very small town in the Midwest and spent a lot of my youth goofing around in barns like this. Those words have me smelling hay through my coffee this morning. Thank you for that.
“…it was also a way we talked to each other, connected with strangers, so it wasn’t just a toy. It was a communication device. Now it’s like someone dropped your phone in the toilet.“—so true! I miss it but love this longer writing, too.
My sister and I spent a day whacking weeds and bushes and found my deck at the beginning of the summer. I dug out my patio set, bought an umbrella and made my deck pretty. I spend my mornings and evenings out here and don’t know why I took so long to embrace this space.
Twitter app on my phone still has a bird icon (I don't have automatic app update thing and I just refuse to update the app to an ugly x manually). So I looked at it today and thought: I feel sorry for the bird! Ok, maybe it's super silly, but I do. The bird did nothing wrong! It's that man...
I feel like "I think you must forget it." is really good life advice for a lot stuff.
I was never good at Twitter, so it was easy to get rid of it. And I did so, immediately. And I love your porch and dog.
a porch changes everything <3
I know the delight of a good porch, and here in Florida, a good sunroom. Ah:-) Joy!
I came to Substack to write for the fun of it and see where it leads me. Years back, I had a blog, then a blog styled newsletter. Soon it turned into this thing to convert readers to clients. Enter persuasive writing.
I want my readers to be readers and delight in my writing. I want them to love it so much that they look forward to it in their inbox and support it with their dollars. I want them to sit on their porch with a warm cuppa in the winter or cool drink in the summer and just savor the words.
Romanticized much? Maybe. Then again, I'm a die hard romantic.
I write on life and sometimes mysticism. It's woven together for me.