As I lay on the couch yesterday morning, writing and occasionally looking out the window, I noted a neighbour go out his front door to get around to the back of his house. I have long wondered about the backyard at that house. There must be one. But from extended family gatherings to quiet coffee and newspaper reading times, the couple who live in that house use the front area of the property. They don't seem to be exhibitionists, everyone's always fully clothed (I consider that good), and they behave very well but they like to be at the front of the house. Apparently, even when grandchildren are over and running all over the lawn, it's better to have them there, near the road, than in a fenced-in backyard or whatever it is that's behind the house. On this street, it can't be that they like to be a part of the hustle and bustle. There's no hustle. There's very little bustle. Both were outlawed on this street a while ago and things have been pretty quiet since then. So, the attraction of the front yard mystifies me. What is going on at the back? Soon what's going on will be a nosy neighbour poking her head over the fence and finding out the awful truth. Then, I suppose we will all wish I had let it remain a mystery. We'll rue the day I learn the truth.