Let me just say for the 450-millionth time how H. is the best.
Because he goes with me when I get a wild idea at 9 in the morning on a Thursday to get a longer ladder, so I can get up on my roof. And then he helps me set up the ladder so it’s stable and safe. And then runs to get roofing nails so I can re-attach the couple shingles that are loose.
And then when I’m up the ladder and considering the project and scooping the globs in the gutter, and it’s starting to rain, and I realize maybe I am just a little afraid of heights, and I turn around (very carefully because I’m at the top of a ladder) and say, “Don’t you know people who like to do this sort of thing and aren’t the least bit afraid?”
And he says, “Yes I do, and I am calling them right now.”
You know, I’d much rather climb a tree than a ladder. Trees stay rooted in the ground and don’t tip over or simply disappear out from under you. Well, mostly–there was that last apple tree I climbed where I was left hanging for a few moments when I decided to do a little selective foot-weight pruning of the branches lower than me.
So after descending from my ladderly heights this morning, I decided to do something a little safer with my feet planted on terra firma and raked the rest of the leaves in the front yard. It’s pretty nice out, even with a sprinkle of rain, so I might go out and do the top level of the backyard, too.
Then there’s a few more late-submitted essays to look over in the cozy house, and Oh! I have an interlibrary loan book in at the VPL! Could the day get any finer?