Porch Journal: The Art of Doing Nothing

How a 1924 Craftsman porch became the best room in the house, and the daily evening ritual that proves it

Welcome to the ‘Porch Journal’, a short-letter series where I share small reflections and behind-the-scenes thoughts on living a smaller, simpler, more beautiful life. These are quick, easy reads, about a minute or two - just enough for a mid-morning coffee break.

Hello to you,

I hope your August is settling in nicely.

I just learned that today is National Relaxation Day. Who designates these holidays anyhow? But with that in mind, I’ve got a relaxing and porch-sittin’ kind of letter for you today.

Although we typically have monsoon storms this time of year, we’ve been enjoying a rather epic season of daily downpours and the lovely overcast skies that go along with it.

Anyone who’s been to this part of northern Arizona in the high-country knows that our skies are often that impossibly bluest of blues, with endless sunshine. But these cloudy days have been a nice treat- one that we’ve relished outdoors on our covered front porch, even during torrential downpours.

You know the one - the actual whiskey porch.

It’s a daily ritual that we all look forward to - how can it be that something this simple doesn’t grow old?

Every evening when I start shutting down the writing and the design apps at my desk, Ibis and Nellie get excited - they pop up and follow me as we all head out the front door together. It makes me laugh every time - to know that these wise creatures enjoy it as much as Michael and I do, tells me something important.

Ibis and Nellie-Mae are hunkering down for nice sit. That's Thumb Butte in the distance - it rises 1,000 feet from the straight horizon you see on the right.

Porch Sittin’

You may have heard me talk about how this front porch, original to the 1924 home, was enclosed somewhere along the way. And we made the big decision to demolish that space and return it back into the porch that it was. Best decision we made in that massive gut-remodel.

The porch runs the entire front of the house, but I’ve furnished it simply. Just a couple of adirondack chairs, a footbench, and an old bookcase.

There’s one extra chair that normally lives over on the other end, next to the front door, where it serves to pop wet or dirty shoes off before heading in.

That chair, in fact, is an antique from my paternal grandmother that somehow ended up with me. I love the shape of woodwork and with a fresh coat of paint on it I’m hoping it holds up for a long while longer.

And the juxtaposition of that swirvy curvy obviously-indoor chair with the more streamlined outdoor chairs is kind of nice. No matchy-matchy sets here, yet it all works.

If you'd like a larger view, you can tap on the images to see the full, uncropped version.

Indoor Relaxation

Painting by my daughter Sonja when she was a little girl. And that javelina on the mantel is the only one invited onto the property. The tile is handmade in the U.S. and I installed it myself after the renovation - about 6 years ago. If there had ever been any tile on the surround previously, it was gone when we bought the cottage.

This fireplace and chimney is original to the cottage, as are those old wood floors which I refinished by hand (or should I say on my hands and knees?).

Next time I’ll have to take a closeup shot of the fireplace itself so you can see the most amazing artwork in the cast iron.

Some research led me to Chicago where it was manufactured by a now-defunct company in the late 1800’s. How it came to be here in this small mountain village of northern Arizona in 1924 is a story I wish I knew.

Those horse shoes? Found them here on the property ages ago, which makes sense considering this really was the wild west not so long ago, even here in downtown. And that framed artwork - that’s actually one of my father’s handmade photo frames that is now recycled to show off a little snippet of a reproduction William Morris wallpaper called “Strawberry Thief”.

This corner of the garden room, where I’m sitting now at my desk writing this letter, is the closest thing we have to a “mudroom” - more like a “mud-corner”.

It’s a great spot to drop my garden hat and cover ups near the back door at the end of a long day in the garden… on my way to wash up and head out to the porch for a sit.

And that northern light glancing in the window is just so lovely. Except that now I’m noticing some paint touchups on the handmade shelf that aren’t right - wonder what happened there.

Details

Tap the images to open the full view.

Copper, brass, and steel.

I have fun with dragonfly motifs around the property - this one’s the knocker on the front door.

Those rusty old steel nuggets are from abandoned mines around the Southwest - mill balls, which were used to grind up ore. I’m not sure why, but I like them - the history, functional art, the patina.

We had a historical marker sign made by an artist and hung it right below this handmade copper lantern - it’s not original, but a faithful reproduction of what would have graced Craftsman bungalows back then.

The succulent growing on top of the bookcase lives there year round and seems quite happy tucked under the roof.

Come Sit on our Porch

This original porch window (the only one of a pair that survived the years), has now been completey refurbished, on both sides, which was a project that I put off until this spring.

It was quite the undertaking as every single joint is hand-mitered and the original glazing had almost disintegrated on the exterior side. And no, I didn’t do this one myself.

Amazingly, all that glass, but for one small panel, is original. I wonder how such a large, and complex design with true divided glass panes, could survive without warping and twisting over time.

I’m thrilled it’s back up to snuff.

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All of these stories and details - they connect to something I’m building for you behind the scenes.

If you’ve ever looked around your home and felt like it’s almost right but not quite there yet - like it’s missing something you can’t quite name - that’s exactly the problem I’m working on solving.

I’m developing structured resources, frameworks, and eventually experiences built specifically around smaller, simpler, more beautiful living. The kind of home that actually lets you exhale and relax.

You’ll hear about it here first.

Stay close, my friend.

As ever, thank you for joining me today. I hope you are able to do a fair bit of relaxing today and this weekend.

With contentment & possibility,

P.S. I’d love to hear what you have planned to celebrate National Relexation Day, and if you’ll be enjoying any porch sittin’. Do you have a porch? Or an outdoor space you actually use? Or one that you keep meaning to use, but it’s not comfortable? And what’s your version of doing “nothing” look like?