Yesterday, my two sons worked together to set up a lemonade stand.
The youngest one loved every minute of it. That is, until his friend walked down the street and they both disappeared into the basement.
Meanwhile, I was sitting outside having a great time catching up with neighbours I hadn't seen in a while, and making friends with new neighbours I had never met. In fact, I connected with one stranger who's son will be going to the same school as mine. We might even share daycare, strangers no more.
I don't remember the good old days when every house had a porch and every evening was spent rocking back and forth 'chewing the fat' with those that walked by.
But I do know that my favourite place in my house is my front steps. Painted blue with peaks of old green where the blue is chipped away. Grass growing up from the cracks, and occasionally a wildflower or weed. Both are good.
When the sun is warm, the neighbours are out, and you have a drink to entice them to sit for a while, there is no place more human than the front yard.