DIY 7

 I am no VanGogh

    I  mean, I can paint rooms.  I may take a while, but I get it done.  I truly don't like going up on ladders or painting, but when I was younger, I did what had to be done.

    Our second house was a tri level.  The peak on one side was maybe 20 feet up, could have been less, may have been more.

    When it came time to paint the house, I borrowed a ladder from a friend and sent Jackie up to the peak with two colors, one for the trim and one for the siding.  She did well.

    This was not an extension ladder.  It was a big, old wooden ladder.  It must have been 16 or 18 feet long.

    The peak was painted, and all that remained was the back side of the house, the upper back side.

    The top was about 12 feet from the ground.  I could handle that height.

    But my problem was the ladder was too long.  If I set it up, it rested on the gutters and I could not reach the wall to paint it.

    I puzzled over this for a few minutes, till  my puzzler was sore, as the Grinch would do.  Then it hit me.

    If I angled the ladder, I could put it under the eave and against the wall, making everything within reach.

    I angled the ladder.  It  looked like a 40 degree angle  But I pushed the bottom of the ladder into the ground as a way to anchor it.

    I got on the ladder, went up a couple of rungs, bounced up and down and everything stayed in place.

    Feeling extra confident and proud of my problem solving skills, I went up the ladder with my gallon of paint and brush.

    I had seen pictures of men sitting on the rung of a ladder and painting, so I decided I could get comfortable that way.  I slid my legs through, put my butt on the rung, and dipped my brush into the bucket.

    I put the brush on the wall and ....

ZOOM!!!!!!

    Down went the ladder.  I kept my seat until we hit the ground in a jumble of paint, dust and who knows what else.

    I thought I broke both legs.  They hurt like hell.

    I laid out in the yard, rolling on the ground,  yelling for help and NO ONE CAME!!!!!!

    I crawled toward the patio door, the one that caused me to rip the skin off my bottom lip, but could not get in.

    So I crawled to the garage door, begging for help.

    When I finally got in the house, people came running.  Someone actually said. "We thought we heard someone yelling for help."  But THEY DID NOT COME!!!

    I was in agony.  My butt hurt, my knees hurt, my legs hurt.....everything hurt.  My heart was going about 400 beats a minute as I realized I escaped death for the second time in this house.

    Nothing was broken.  But I was sore for weeks.

    When I went out to look, there was this one streak of fresh paint going down the wall.  There was also a lot of paint on the ground.

    I eventually got the wall done.  I did end up getting a shorter ladder and having someone hold it while I painted.

    The guy who loaned me the ladder asked me why I didn't stake the ladder into the ground, which is what he would have done.  But I had no clue about that then.

      I know now.

Peace and Love