There are definite advantages to living on an island in a rain forest. Mild winters...spectacular scenery...amazing wildlife. Really, really big trees.
There are also disadvantages. Like rain. Lots and lots and lots of rain. I'm talking buckets of rain. If you don't like liquid sunshine, I wouldn't suggest living in a rain forest. But at least you'd be well hydrated. Bet you can't tell from my photo that I'm 110 years old.
But the biggest disadvantage of living in a rain forest is the moss. It's why I run -- stand still too long and the moss starts growing on your north side. My lawn has a large moss component, it grows on my cement walkways and chokes out my flower pots. But worst of all is the roof. In the wet winter months it looks like a living, breathing, creeping entity that is slowly swallowing my house. At Christmas its bright green hue lends a very festive air to the neighbourhood.
Every time I drive up to my house I think, 'damn, I better call someone about that roof', but once inside it's out of sight, out of mind. In my 20's my friends dubbed me "the princess of organization" and it's a crown that I'm pretty confident I could still compete for today. But I can procrastinate with the best of them and when it comes to the roof I've been the Queen of Procrastination.
So why not just do it myself? I mean, it's just sweeping...right? Spraying on a little bleach. Well, it all comes down to one word -- ladders. And heights. Okay, so two words. I've always had a healthy fear of heights. That just makes good sense. My fear of ladders was a little harder earned...
December 2000. I'm a newly single INDEPENDENT woman. Which means I can put up the Christmas lights myself. So I'm up the extension ladder on the sloping driveway and it's wet (rain forest, remember?) And it seems I incorrectly factored the base of ladder to roof ratio. Next thing I know I'm riding the ladder face first into the driveway. I'm left with a broken elbow, split chin, shifted teeth, swollen face and a very healthy fear of extension ladders. (And the realization that all those years I held the ladder -- I really was being useful.)
So I finally hire some guys to do the dangerous stuff -- to climb the ladders and go up to de-moss my roof. (I know I've left it a little too long when the first words I hear out of one of them when he gets out of his truck are -- "Oh, Christ.") Before they even start, one of the guys runs headlong into the hydro pole on my front lawn and nearly knocks himself unconscious. How can you not see a hydro pole?? He gratefully accepts the Tylenol I offer. When the ladder they have on the roof to get from one level to the next comes crashing to the ground I start to wonder if I have enough house insurance to cover these guys.
In the end the roof looks like new and they're still in one piece. I breathe a sigh of relief and go inside to wash up. Seems I've been standing still too long and I'm looking a little green around the edges.
On another note...My Leafs blew a 4-1 lead in the 3rd period of game 7 tonight and then went on to lose in OT. I'm a forever fan but I'm bummed. I ate chocolate.
I remember VERY CLEARLY your Christmas Letter the year of "the ladder incident". It was when I knew you were meant to be a writer (and NOT a roofer). I never laughed so hard in my life...it was a supportive, "oh, poor you" kind of laugh, but a belly laugh, none the less. And like my mother always used to say to me, "I was laughing WITH you, not AT you"!!!!
ReplyDeleteAnd I've been milking that fall for material ever since!
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