This back door reminds me of an ongoing source of confusion within the Chesapeake Bay Family, and that's whether to call the back yard the back yard or to call it the front yard. And if you're confused, then you're right where you need to be.
You see, some people--i.e. Chesapeake Bay Mother--call the back yard the front yard if that yard is on the water, also known as waterfront property. The house fronts the water, so that is the front of the house. If you're asking yourself when this agonizing post will be over, the answer is soon.
But Chesapeake Bay Mother was the only one in our family who called our back yard the front yard. Everyone else called it the back yard because it was in the back of the house as you approached from the road
This caused confusion for decades. When Chesapeake Bay Mother asked us to do something out front, we'd end up in the wrong yard. If she asked us to get something from the back yard, we couldn't find what it was we were supposed to be retrieving because we were on the wrong side of the house.
And now, dear reader, it's time for me to shut the front door and stop this rambling nonsense. Please hold your applause until I say a few more things.
There were two reasons for this post today: to share this shot of bright sunlight streaming through the old screen door of a house being taken over by nature; and to convey to future generations that my mother attempted to teach us the correct terminology for the orientation of a house vis-a-vis the water but it was lost on me.