Most of the deck has been wired in for the use of whatever animal needs a little TLC (say, a sick chicken) or my various fosters (squirrels, opossums). Otherwise it's for the use of the cats. But a wee bit is for us.
But I don't spend much time out there. It was sort of an area for general purpose dumping of whatever temporarily needed a home (OK, I'll confess. Mostly for fleeces I can't resist buying, even though I have enough fiber to keep me spinning for an unnaturally long life.) I am putting this in past tense because I did clean it all up about two years ago when we had the house repainted, with the intention of having a sitting area for a cup of tea and a book.
Two years, and the sitting area hadn't happened. What I needed was a place to sit. I had a folding wooden chair out there, but it hits my back just in the wrong spot. But my problem is that I'm really really bad at spending money on anything (except, it seems, for fleece and fiber). When I do buy something, I want a certain degree of excitement over it, not "meh, it'll do." So for two years I looked at outdoor furniture, and for two years I went "meh." Especially since unless you go for plastic the stuff's pretty expensive.
Finally I spotted it. At a new pop-up thrift store next to the gas station where we sometimes get a hamburger (don't judge--they make good burgers). Two metal chairs and a love seat. A style you used to see on front porches everywhere--so I don't know if I should call them "vintage," "retro," "old fashioned," or just "dated." But I love the look, they're quite comfortable, and the price was certainly right.
Of course, they needed a bit of love (like a few hours with a pressure washer, wire brush, scraper, and a couple of cans of spray paint.)
But no table. I was resigning myself to a couple of years of looking at "meh, it'll do" tables and not getting one when I remembered that stuck in a closet were a couple of sheesham wood tables (which I liked well enough to keep but didn't really have any place to put them). Dug one out, cleaned it up, and voila! My sitting area!
Now to get that book and cup of tea. Fast. Here--the time between "uh, it's only 50 degrees and a little chilly to be sitting in a metal chair" and "ugh--it's 85 degrees and the biting flies and mosquitoes are driving me crazy" is about three days. Better enjoy them while I can.
Except . . . sigh. I have often discussed with my friend Gill that I lack the "clean gene." Other people seem to be able to clean--I just uncover more dirt. So, sitting in my chair with my tea and book, I found I had to keep my gaze up to that lovely view. Because right in front of me is the low wall of the deck. Where we have the squirrel feeder (after I release my baby squirrels I of course forever put food out for them. Where the squirrels run back and forth. Uncontrolled, unhousebroken squirrels. I couldn't help but notice that what was supposed to be a khaki tan wall was, well, sort of a streaky brown. So out came the bucket and cleaning towel and magic eraser and *then* tea and book. No--I'm not posting a before picture--it was sort of gross.
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