Foundations

 

A photo to inspire my morning writing rambles - on this day it's this one –  the flower bed at the foundation of the big porch that stretches across the back of our home. 

I took this picture on Friday - a sunny, breezy warmish day as weather pundits warned of a weekend of cold temperatures, wind driven rain and general gloom while organizers of outdoor events fretted. It tells the story of October - mildewy squash leaves, vigorous nasturtiums that threaten to overtake the drive behind the house and lots of weeds.

But today, my eyes went first to the stonework that shows up on the lower right. Arthur and middle school-age son Joey spent much of a summer laying that foundation as we embarked on the never-ending rethinking of this old farm house.

The stones for this project were carefully curated, foundation stones from long-ago buildings around the farm and rocks from moss-covered piles that grew in forgotten corners of the crop land with each turning of the soil. In the corners are huge chunks of sandstone pulled out of the rubble when the Potter County Jail was renovated some years ago. 

Building foundations from salvaged materials was a topic of conversation around the dinner table  as an old friend joined us for homemade deep dish pizza. We had years of catching-up to do and shared experiences to remember. 

But it was his story of sourcing foundation rocks during his construction of the gazebo on the courthouse square that reminded me.

"We should probably write that down someplace," I had said all those years ago as the great stone foundation grew in our backyard. 

And this is the writing down of it.

with one of the ever-present barn cats
and sweet Julie our second black lab mix