Our front porch pre-makeover, circa Easter 2010
Yes, friends, it is that time of year again. A time when the friends of your teenage daughter volunteer their free makeover services. A time when your once neat, lovely home and yard metamorphosizes, by way of a long held tradition known in this neck of the woods as "rolling", into what you see below. By the way, for those of you who may be reading this from outside the south or Middle Tennessee, I'd like to ask if this is something that is done where you live?
Yes, we have finally been hit. Honestly, I was beginning to wonder whether or not we were still on anyone's radar. You see, most of the kids in our town who do this sort of thing only do it to people they like. You're probably thinking
I'd hate to see what they do to someone they dislike.
But to do the job right takes money (have you any idea how much 80 rolls of toilet paper costs?)and who wants to spend their money on someone they don't like. Anyway, October may be the season of the witch for some but around here it takes on a whole other meaning. And it has to be done in October. To do it in any other month would be rude and uncouth.
The crew who came out this year are frequent visitors to our home, both at times when they are invited and, just as often, when they're not. They are classmates of my daughter and were John's students a few years back.
When they dropped by last year Ren missed out on most of it. Her room is upstairs and she was so soundly asleep that the ringing of the front doorbell and the beating on the back doors failed to wake her.
This year, she was ready. She had an idea they would hit on the night of the football homecoming game (one of the guys was having a sleepover for his birthday, though I don't think guys call it a sleepover) so she slept on the couch.
At a little past 3:30 on Saturday morning (Yes! 3:30 A.M.) the ringing of the bells began.
Ren slipped out the front door. John slipped out the back. And, eventually, the perpetrators we caught.
But, as you can see, they did a very thorough job prior to being rounded up.
They covered anything and everything they could get to. They also booby-trapped the place. See the strategically placed rocker in front of the door? This was done, I'm sure, because last year John took chase after the guys running quite fast -for an old guy- out this same door.
Forking yards is also big this year. I told Ren I was going to collect these and use them the next time her friends came over for a party.
Now, newcomers to the art of rolling might think a name brand tissue is required to do a good job. Quite the opposite is true. Those thick, fuzzy papers just don't unroll as good as the cheap stuff.
This group of guys came prepared. As our house sits on a 5 acre lot (which is part of a larger farm), they knew they would need to be able to communicate should they have to scatter.
Nothing was safe. Not the rockers!
Nor the soccer ball!
Not even a 5-year-old's playfort.
I had these made the year John-Heath was born. They are made with the same materials but are not identical. This one is mine.
Ren's is adorned with a little jewel.
John-Heath's has a little braiding.
But each is expecting miracles (this one happens to be John's).
These "crackernuts", as John-Heath calls them, are no longer so well equipped. A certain aforementioned child has long stripped them of their swords.
These were owned by John's grandmother, Nannie, who kept red candles in them (if I remember correctly). 
The rest of the year this candleholder and its mate stay put away in a dining room curio. 
