Saturday, June 26, 2004


When you own a house, particularly one as extensively vertical as mine is, there are any number of stratospheric problems that now and then need remedying, from shingles to chimneys to high windows to stovepipes and roofbeams, not to mention treelimbs. These problems worsen over time, and accumulate by orders of magnitude, if all you have is a short ladder.

There's the caulking and wood treatment that has to be done up near the roof in front; the upper front windows to be cleaned; the carpenter bee hole to be plugged. There's the stovepipe to be cleaned, the living room ceiling fan to be fixed, the new sleek stovepipe brace to be installed; the back upper windows to be cleaned. The long lower oak branch out over the garden has to be pruned, the lower cypress branches to be trimmed.

And here I sit at my keyboard, willing but unable to do these things with my little ladder. Until now. For at last I have a way to reach higher heavens: I have bought a shiny new extending ladder, delivered yesterday, that can reach to seven meters, over nine meters with me reaching from the top rung. Heaven is within my grasp.

And here I still sit at my keyboard, even though willing and able to do these things. The ladder's all wrapped up outside, where it's raining in a big hurry. There are higher heavens, with greater and more urgent tasks.


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