The other day, Hubby decided that the front door was dragging too much across the floor and that he ought to fix it.
He pulled it down off the hinges and set to work.
Baby Bear and I, sitting on the couch began slowly to turn into popsicles, so I hung a quilt over the door. It's odd, really, how little is actually between us and the great outdoors: a 1" thick slab of wood with a window in it. And when it wasn't there, only a blanket hung between the 23 degree afternoon and ourselves. I felt a bit like Laura in Little House on the Prairie when Pa hung a quilt over the door to keep the wolves out.