And, yes, I did fall off the ladder, but only once.
It was my birthday week (the 28th), so my family planned a weekend makeover of my library/home office for Saturday and Sunday as an incredible gift.
None of us wanted to get up early, but some of us did. My sister, Betty, and her husband, Glenn “Get ‘er Done” Stone were the masterminds behind the plan, and they got up really early for their three hour drive from Virginia.
Rosie and Neil came over to meet them. I slept late, accidentally, of course, so the area to be made over, which was supposed to be stripped bare, was still untouched when they arrived. Untouched might be the key word here, people.
The carpet gracing the floor was a beautiful, lime green, visible from outer space shag carpet from the late ‘60’s. I still don’t know why it had to go! It was still shaggy, wasn’t it?
That carpet was a gift to me from friends who had used it successfully, as had their dogs, for a decade before ripping it out and dropping it off at my house about 30 years ago. I can’t remember why they thought that I would like it, but boy did I. It was still groovy.
But here is a thought. Why do I never get anything new? I feel like Second Hand Rose from Second Avenue.
But I got some new stuff this weekend, namely a beautiful new floor and a new paint job in the library/office space, which just happens to be the biggest, and heretofore most unused, room in my house. Now it is the newest and the nicest. Happy birthday to me!
But, listen, people, it wasn’t easy to accept this gift. I like my stuff and I tend to hang onto it long after its sell-by date.
First, it wasn’t easy for me to keep them away from my pottery, and second, it wasn’t easy for them to keep me away from all those power tools they brought: saws of every description, miter things, all kinds of nail guns and power screwdrivers and drills and other mysterious things that are powered by air compressors.
I was, of course, banned from the work area early on, but I thought they would at least give me some work with the hammer. No. They had seen me with a hammer all too often. They made me go rake the yard. The back yard. That’s where I fell off the ladder, but I landed in the azaleas so I didn’t get hurt too badly. If you’re wondering why I was on a ladder when I was supposed to be raking the yard, I had decided to rake the roof of its coat of pine straw.
I didn’t break anything when I fell, except the rake, but during the weekend, I still managed to get hurt often and well. I scraped both my knees, hit my funny bone twice, cut my cheek, almost blacked my eye, dropped heavy things, like furniture, on my feet (I was wearing sandals, of course), and fell over everything that I could. Isn’t it funny that I never stumble over all the stuff packed in my house until I move it and the room is bare? I got up twice during Sunday night to look at and admire the new room and I have the bruises to prove it on both shins.
I went to work Monday looking like an alley cat that had lost the fight on the fence, but boy was I happy! I couldn’t and still can’t believe the transformation that didn’t cost me anything (except a new rake) and that didn’t cause me to work hard at all, although I looked Monday as if I had done it all single handedly. I surely would’ve tried to do it all single handedly, but my loving and wise family wanted me to live to see another birthday!
Next room, please, folks! Volunteers are welcome! So are attendants with straight jackets! And lots of band aids, bandages and ice packs, and muscle relaxers!
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