(no subject)
Wednesday night I wound up on my father's roof with a shovel. I'd come over here to use the computer only to find my aunt and uncle, complete with the children, and my dad's best friend and his son on top of both the house and garage shoveling snow. Very kind of them -- my dad's wrist is still healing from a snowmobile accident in December so he couldn't do it himself.
I was completely unprepared for this activity -- jeans, tennis shoes, and very thin gloves are inappropriate for thigh deep snow. I am not terribly happy about leaving the ground. It turns out I am even less happy about pitched roofs slippery with snow. And I've never been terribly fond of ladders. I was okay getting up but when it came to getting down there was just no way I was going to get on that thing. Instead I jumped. Off both the house and garage. (Somehow this was the less scary option; apparently my common sense fled as soon as I decided to go on the roof in the first place.) Really, freshly shoveled snow isn't a bad landing. If I hadn't been terrified it may have even been fun.
I was completely unprepared for this activity -- jeans, tennis shoes, and very thin gloves are inappropriate for thigh deep snow. I am not terribly happy about leaving the ground. It turns out I am even less happy about pitched roofs slippery with snow. And I've never been terribly fond of ladders. I was okay getting up but when it came to getting down there was just no way I was going to get on that thing. Instead I jumped. Off both the house and garage. (Somehow this was the less scary option; apparently my common sense fled as soon as I decided to go on the roof in the first place.) Really, freshly shoveled snow isn't a bad landing. If I hadn't been terrified it may have even been fun.