After clearing my yard of debris, there remains the problem of a limb fallen on a shed.
And limbs and leaves and tons of Spanish moss on my roof. After speaking with Quaker friend Jean Larson I borrow a small folding saw from her husband, come home, choose exactly where to saw, and cut the limb that holds down my shed. Then I as push-pull, the limb neatly falls back onto the neighbor’s land it had fallen from. How satisfying to find my shed unhurt except for minor dents.
But the roof of my house. And my usual terrific handyman, Henry, is doing crucial work for many people, some still without power.
A click in my mind and I remember the light aluminum ladder behind my friend Suzanne’s house in Gainesville. She isn’t home but I know she won’t mind my borrowing.
The ladder hangs out the end (I tie it down) but it fits in my car and the next thing I know this ladder is propped against my house. And I’m climbing in bare feet for better stability. I’ve thrown a light plastic rake onto the roof – and sitting on my fanny as I’m scared to stand up – I’m soon pushing sticks, branches, moss and even a limb or two over the edge. Sitting is awkward and soon I’m standing up. I look around at the terrific view, get back to work, and my roof is soon cleared. I gotta get down but I just sort of hold my breath and climb down. This is almost fun, now it’s done.