Well, I have been trying to decide whether to update you on the horrible oil disaster or tell you a funny story about my weekend on my roof. I decided to go with the roof; if I can’t keep my oily fears contained I may write about that later today.
Sooo . . . my brother stopped by the other day, Saturday I think it was, to visit and pick up a canoe. I had been noticing for the last few weeks that my skylights had gotten so gross that moss was growing in lumpy dark green mounds around the edges on the glass and our bright sunny days, of which we do not have a lot of, seemed to be coming through in a slimy green haze.
So I tried to talk my brother into going up on the roof to clean them, but he wasn’t having any of it, even though I bribed him with some of my delicious home brew beer. He likes that, but since I learned how to do it from him, he isn’t that impressed. He probably has a couple hundred bottles of home brew in his garage.
I had given up trying to get my friends to go up there and clean the skylights, they wouldn’t fall my pleadings either. Slackers. I hate going on the roof because I have a this fear of falling, weird, I know.
The worst part isn’t getting on the roof or even being on the roof, it is getting off the roof. You know if you have ever done this, that once on the roof, the getting down part consists of having to walk over to the edge, then turn around so you are facing the roof and try to find the ladder which you cannot see, with your foot, and hope that you find it before you lose your balance or your grip on the gutter and fall.
So I climbed onto the roof; it was a very nice warm day. I was in no hurry to get down. Everything I could see was so green; the trees behind my house; the lawn is still green, it hasn’t turned yellow from lack of my watering it, there are ferns, douglas fir trees, and all sorts of shrubs and ground plants that I don’t know the names of. It was warm, did I already say that?
Well, I got the skylights all clean and shiny and since I really didn’t want to find out if I could get off the roof without falling, I just sort of hung out there for awhile, finding things to clean, fir needles to wash off the roof, sight seeing my neighbors yards and checking out what they were doing through their windows.
Finally, I could put it off no longer. I carefully approached the edge of the roof. Did I mention it is a two story house? I could not see the ladder, but I knew where it should be, as I put it to the left of a plumbing vent. So I turned my back to the yard, faced the roof, and held onto the vent. It felt awfully flimsy. I doubted it would hold my weight if I missed the ladder or accidentally kicked it over. I felt around gingerly with my foot, hoping that the ladder was where I thought I put it. A few anxious seconds passed, and then bingo!
Okay I thought, that’s the ladder, now is my foot centered on it, or is it off to one side so that it might make the ladder fall over when I put my weight on it? There was no way to know.
Then I carefully put my weight on it; it held steady. Then I just climbed down. Ooffda! Mission accomplished and no casualties! I was so proud of myself. Oh, and did I mention I’m 60? How many 60 year old women do you know who climb up on their roofs and clean their own skylights? Hah! Take that!
Do I get an award, or anything . . . ?