I dreamed of a garden swing for years, but it seemed like such an extravagance. Stylish and pricey swings graced the pages of Grandin Road catalogs and the garden section of Sunset Magazine, teasing me with the seductive possibilities of life with a swing. When my youngest son was still small we would “test drive” all the display models at our local Home Depot garden center.
Then in 2009 I spotted a swing in town for under $200. Though it wasn’t a high-end model it looked sturdy and it was comfortable. The seats were cushioned and the back had built-in head rests and a canopy to fend off the sun. It was perfect! We snapped one up and my husband assembled it for me for Mother’s Day.
Had I known that swings had magical powers I would have splurged years ago! Whenever I wandered outside to sit on my swing, a kind of hypnotic trance took over. Suddenly, swinging was more important than answering email or tossing a load of laundry into the dryer. Invisible hands lulled me. I could barely move.
My boys were drawn to the swing, too. I would trek outdoors and before I knew it I had company on the swing. Back and forth we would go, swish-swish, swish-swish, swish-swish. Feuding cats set aside their differences and joined me on the magical swing, paws curled in as they settled into the deep cushions.
If I had to make a phone call, I figured I may as well do it from the swing. I pretended to read my book out there, but in short order the sun and swing led to slumber.
After three seasons under the noon day sun, my swing needs a little TLC. I’ve got my eye on some new fabric, part revitalization, part disguise. If the shopkeeper ever learned about the magical powers they would undoubtedly find a way to double the price.