I can't fathom that anyone has interest in what I have to say. But here I am. I've lived for 20 years in a small town, with close neighbors and close relationships, and I've been looking (closely) out our kitchen windows for years, observing the comings and goings next door on both sides. Our house is sandwiched in the the historic district of a mid atlantic town, between two rental dwellings; we've been here for 20 years and have been entertained by the occupants of the houses on both sides, who have conducted their lives before our very eyes, without benefit of protective shades across a 7 foot space on each side between our respective houses. Our view from one window is separated by a mere alley, 5 feet wide, from the activities in the next door house, whose kitchen window lines up with our own, which is situated above our sink, where all things Kitchen-related occur. About 6 years ago, a wise tenant there covered the vast bulk of their kitchen window with a 3/4 view curtain, which seems to "convey" from tenant to tenant. Prior to its installation, we had open viewing of (on a big night) full-screen nudity, nothing left to the imagination. After installation of the curtain, we got more titillating neck-up views, and whatever else we happened to see as the occupants and guests passed before the kitchen door, which is 1/2 window.

The tenants Out The Kitchen Window, sink side, have spanned the scope from bizarre to sublime, the landlord on that side having no qualification for occupancy, apparently, other than being Alive. In our 20 years of living here, we've observed nudists, campers, handymen, parents, and renegades who, well, pee outside. On our first day as we moved into this house, we marched into our kitchen and were inexplicably greeted by a long-haired woman who was too old to have long hair, and she enthusiastically extended her hand in greeting to my husband and announced, "Hi. I'll lay you!" Dumbfounded, he shook her hand and she thereupon vanished from our kitchen. We later learned that her name was Aleya, was really saying, “Hi, I’m Aleya” and she lived in the house Out The Kitchen Window.

It’s been my practice when something juicy is going on, to race to my computer and alert other neighbors, who have a different vantage point than I, and the crowd of interested participants ebbs and flows with the tenor of the tenant, if you will, in residence at any given moment. The I’ll-Lay-You story, and many others spawned from things we’ve observed while simply getting a glass of water, have prompted friends to suggest that I write a blog.

It’s not the purpose of this blog to review history; that first part was just to give you a backdrop of how this blog came to pass. Tune in from time to time to catch an update.