I always dreamed of having a deck, my own private Idaho. In 1990 Brooklyn it seemed many Brownstoners like myself were contracting Bart, a local entrepreneur for his specials on deck building. Alas, we needed a kitchen, too, so the deck was put on hold.
My husband and I bought our home on a tree-lined street from the estate of a recently deceased matron whose family had grown up and departed for even greener pastures. It was sadly in need of repair and on teachers’ salaries with two small children only essential remodeling and coddling were possible.
However, the roof of the garden shed below the parlor floor seemed promising. It was directly off my kitchen and accessed with some difficulty by climbing through a window- bingo! I could have my proverbial cake outside, alone, looking down on the 100 year old wisteria, balancing precariously on a rotted trellis below in the “garden.” Not a proper deck but a reasonable facsimile.
The children have grown up and departed (husband, too) and I find myself recently retired from 36 years of teaching and living in the lovely Hudson Valley with a new husband- and a deck! It’s also off my kitchen but easily accessed by a door (complete with handle and screen). I waited for summer all winter long counting birds in my backyard and anticipating decklife.
My morning ritual begins with coffee in hand and just a look around my estate (condo-quick) to check on any perceptual changes in flora and fauna. The mint seems to have doubled in height and the groundhog is barking its displeasure at my arrival. The bird feeder is bent strangely over the small side yard adjacent to my perch- that damn bear again! And who knew black rat snakes could grow so long? Did I mention my rock garden? I have been arranging the rocks since spring around the patches of herbs I have managed to grow aided with water from a hose hooked up to my kitchen faucet. I’ve had to cultivate my fine motor skills of navigating the spray around my small Eden while sipping wine in the long summer evenings from my wooden ship.
Everyday I marvel anew at my good fortune transitioning to a new beginning from the deck of my dreams in the Hudson Valley. And wonder what fall will bring!
Talking Bear's Clan 