There would always be a day sometime in spring when my mom would say, "It's time to clean the deck."  My brother and I would pour some laundry detergent into a bucket then grab some hard straw brushes and the push broom.  Then we would scrub the deck.  Slide across the deck.  Spray the deck down, wasting gallons of water.  I'd like to think, though I don't remember, that that would be a night we would eat outside.  I loved that deck -- it's the part of the house I liked best. The tree swung over our heads, the built in bench seating, the flower boxes always filled with red geraniums.

Today was the day I cleaned the front porch.  Milder soap, milder mop too.  But I put some muscle into the floor.  And it seemed to me that everything was happy.  The sun shining down on me.  The birds singing to me.  The wicker seat curling its finger my direction.  "Sit down," it said.  Sit down and watch the world turn green.