For those of you in other parts of the world, we have some local adaptations to the weather here in New England. For example, the front door of most houses--if there isn't a covered porch or patio-- is up a short flight of steps ending in a square stoop, and there's a little awning over it. This is so you can get out of the house when blizzard hits.
(I once described my ideal climate to my friend ladegard as "The sort of place where you don't have to tie a rope to get to the barn more than a couple of times a winter... but people understand what you mean when you say, "I had to tie a rope to get to the barn.")
Also, we usualy have double doors--a metal storm door on the outside, which will have screen for summer and plates of glass for winter, and then a stout interior door, usually of wood. Other places in the world have pretty front doors, or security doors. Here, it's the winter we worry about.
Anyway, it must have been spring, because the glass was still in the storm door in the kitchen, but the inner door was open to let the light in. And I heard a *plop* and looked over from whatever I had been doing--and there was a frog as big as my hand with its wet belly sticking to the glass and its wet suctiony toes holding it spread-eagled on the surface.
I must have stared at it for thirty seconds before the dogs scared it. And then it JUMPED! Foom! and was gone.
It was a green treefrog, I think. Although this site says they only come as far north as Delaware.
Neat critter. It must be cool to be able to stick to things.