I live in a horror movie.

My last post was related to a very scary book I was reading. I finished it this week...I finally took it upstairs and finished it from the safety of the couch. No more of that scary basement business. I didn't really like the ending. But at least it's over.

But real life brought some horror-ness of its own. It was actually about a week and a half ago. We returned from being out of town, and apparently it was incredibly windy. The side door of our home has an old screen door that my husband has wanted to replace for a while. Apparently the wind got to it before we did, because it looked like this when we returned:


Just a little scary. While we were sleeping, the wind picked up again. The door was making a lot of noise, so Matt got up and rigged something to keep it from slamming against the house all night. So I woke up to this set up:

I'm not sure, but it seems like waking up in the morning while you're in the midst of reading a book about a serial killer and seeing this as you walk downstairs is not exactly comforting. Just maybe.