It’s a day worthy of the cat in the hat, a day to sit and look out the window, remorseful.

In Poland, it would be called a dzien barowy: “bar day.” All the years I was in Poland, though, I don’t think I ever spent a dzien barowy actually in a bar. It struck me as somehow, I don’t know, reeking of alcoholism (literally and figuratively) to go to a bar in the late morning and spend the entire day there (which, in the area of Polish where I resided, was the definition of a dzien barowy).

Nothing but rain.

Rain and wind — and worry that the soil has loosened up enough with all the moisture to let a tree reach all the way down and touch its toes. Or our house.

The sun is not shining; it’s too wet to play, and even if it weren’t so soaking wet, playing outside would be out of the question: the Girl is sick with a massive congestion-producing cold. That has left us figuring out things to do to keep everyone happy, engaged, warm, and dry.

It occurred to me to make for L what Nana often created for me: a tent.

The ingredients are simple: three chairs, a kitchen bar, two blankets, and four deck chair seat cushions.

Notice the fine finishing job on the underside of the bar…

Just enough room for a bunny, a seal, and a beloved Dalmatian.

Access by invitation only; no adults allowed.