What a strange morning this has been. It’s moving day in the Duffer household—so many details to attend to, things to finish up, phone calls to make. And it’s already been a very, very strange night.
After driving to the local gas station at 3 AM and picking up a 60 year old lady hitchhiker (that’s another story for another time) I proceeded to make my way back home in order to complete my packing tasks.
It was time to tackle the loft.
See, we have a fantastic loft in this garage. It has held Christmas and Winter clothes, photo albums and baseball cards. But in the middle of the night, I decided it was finally time to take inventory and make sure things were labeled for the move.
Now, I am not one that is afraid of heights. I love heights, the higher the better. However I am one that God has not seen fit to dole out balance nor physical grace to. I am a clydesdale living in a thoroughbred’s world.
I easily climbed our very tall, very shaky A-Frame ladder and maneuvered my way onto the loft. YES! It held me! (Up until now, I’ve only sent children up there to do my bidding). I labeled and sorted, labeled and sorted, until the contents of the loft were move ready.
I made my way back to the ladder. Slowly I inched myself over the edge, searching for the first rung of the ladder. (For further information, see my post on falling off of a horse. I was not going to make THAT mistake this time).
But alas, my foot did not find purchase. I was unable to get my body to bend at the angle necessary in order to descend the ladder. What now, Reepicheep??
My children were all in the house, sound asleep. But in a futile attempt to save myself, I pounded on the wall of the garage. I hoped that one would hear and come to their mother’s rescue. Nope. No one was stirring, not even a mouse. (I saw plenty of spiders stirring though)
What was I to do? I knew men’s Tuesday Morning breakfast at the church would begin at 6, but I also knew that I could yell and yell “Help!” and the likelihood of one of them hearing and coming to my aid was slim to none. There was no way to jump. And the ladder stood there and mocked me, with it’s bent rungs and unstable legs.
But, least you think that I’m not the sharpest crayon in the box, I had an epiphany. If I turned the dang ladder around, I’d probably be able to step out to it and climb down safely. I am nothing if not brilliant.
So, I mustered my strength, picked up the ladder and spun it around. Success. Now would the shaky thing hold me as I stepped WAY out to it?
I know, the anticipation is killing you.
Well, silly obviously I made it down and lived to write this tale.
I promise you, these things only happen to me.
