Fall-Guy?

Well, no... but almost!

For some time past I have been 'circling' the task of removing tree branches which have overgrown our roof to create havoc with guttering at this time of year. The tree is a mass of small flowers which, during spring and early summer, deposit heaps of very fine petals or pollen which easily penetrate fine mesh gutter-guard to cause blockages during heavy rain-fall. Worse, if not removed quickly, the material accelerates rusting of the actual guttering.

At 80, I'm not as agile on the roof as I used to be. Not fearful, but ultra-cautious. This morning was warm but overcast with no breeze whatsoever. I determined this to be perfect for the task... so gingerly ascended the ladder along with trimming gear and a crab-like scuttle from point of roof entry to the scene of the over-growth. As usually happens... nothing untoward occurred during the actual operation. Except frequent calls of 'are you OK?' from my wife through the kitchen window immediately below my work-space. None of those entreaties broke my concentration until the last one which came shrill and unexpectedly as I was reversing off the roof with one leg tentatively trying to feel for a foot-hold on the penultimate rung of the shaky old ladder made by my Dad c.1930s(?) Startled, I was immediately seeking non-existent hand-holds in excess of the two I already had a firm grip on... whilst the ladder drunkenly sought to substitute stability for an onset of the wobbles.

All ended well. However, on any future expeditions to the hacienda heights my good lady is instructed to assist my safe return to earth by holding her tongue and the bloody ladder at the same time!