The fact of having a back yard at all is a weirdly grownup thing to begin with. I still think of myself as a bit of a fuckup, even though I'm not, really. But you know how it is... once you fit your self-image into a niche you're comfortable with, it's hard to shift. I've always seen myself as kind of a gifted underachiever and been good with that. All these accouterments of adulthood -- house and garage and kid in college -- still strike me as incongruous sometimes, even if I did come by them honestly.
However: I do have a back yard. And a tent, I think, unless I lent it to someone and forgot to get it back. And a sleeping bag, and a flashlight. I have a couple of books. And the best dog in the world, to keep me safe from marauding raccoons looking for chocolate bars.
One night this summer, I will do this. You all can hold me to it.
(The photo is worth clicking on.)