Nebraska snow on the cellar door was entertainment for the cat, and the cat was entertainment for us. Late one moonlit night, we caught him slip sliding down it. He was having so much fun, he did it again and again. It was a winter of lots of snow, and he did lots of cellar door skiing.
We lived there a year, and I didn't go to the basement unless I absolutely had to. No one entered the house through the cellar door, that I'm aware of, but every time we planned to go to Omaha, which wasn't often, the sewer backed up. Was it afraid to be home alone? Trips were cancelled waiting for plumbers and cleaning up. Tree roots were blamed. Were they planning to climb the stairs, find us in our beds and strangle us? I'd best continue this in the daylight.
2013 Red Convertible Travel Series