One of the things I miss from growing up in the deep south was the porch swing you often found on the older houses. The covered porch was a necessity way back because the houses had very little to no insulation and in the summer the temperature inside would become unbearable in the middle of the day. So everyone would head outside and sit on the porch swing or a rocking chair. The only thing I didn't like about the swings was the constant squeaking of the chain on the hooks in the ceiling so I hung mine on some pillow block style bearings instead. Totally silent. The little woman approves as the photo shows.
Someone I consider a master woodworker once told me that a master woodworker is not someone who never makes mistakes. He is someone who is able to cover them up so that no one can tell.