"We have no front door," explained my husband when I called home after work today. He was surprised that I took the news so calmly. He forgot that I'd talked with my dad about some painting.
Sure enough, the door and the hinges were completely missing, the door and frame scraped and ready for priming and painting.
A curtain and a few closet doors propped across the space kept the bugs out and the dogs inside (to be fair, the dogs were eagerly waiting for Easter dinner to hit the table, and perhaps a few morsels to gravitate to the floor.)
The work is not yet done, but the door is back up for the night. Keeping out some of the humidity and mosquitoes, and any other mayhem heading our way.
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