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I’ve never been on a roof before. That all changed this weekend as I helped Scott put the Christmas lights on the house.

Not exactly my most photogenic moment, but hey – sweats, no makeup, and wonky hair seemed appropriate for rooftop activities.It was more like balance, sweep… balance, sweep… balance, sweep. I was a little freaked out. But, I was able to clean out some of the gutter clutter and straighten out the lights.

Clearly, we needed to get up here a little sooner than we did. Pine straw is collecting all over the roof (especially the back), so I did a little sweeping.

From this angle, the pine straw sitch in the front yard is even more obvious in its out-of-control nature. I’ll get right on it… just as soon as it gets warmer… and I have a weekend of no other excuses.

Anywho, back to the roof. Scott not only got onto our roof, but he was determined to get the icicle lights all the way up to the top… so he used a ladder to climb onto the second floor roof while I stayed on the first. I don’t, I repeat, DO NOT recommend following our lead here. This is really dangerous and we’re total (very lucky) morons, so climb onto your own roof at your own risk.
Look at Scott go…

I think it’s cute that he sticks his tongue out when he’s concentrating really hard. I asked him about it when I showed him this pic, and he never even realized he did it. Hehe.

We both kept cracking Christmas Vacation jokes. Injury-related humor is only funny when it happens to Chevy Chase and not us. It helped to keep the mood light instead of being freaked out every five seconds that we were going to fall.

And then, we got stuck. As in, my mother (who came to drop off some Christmas stuff that I’d left at her house during the move last year) went inside for coffee and never came back out. Leaving us on the roof.
You see, when climbing onto your roof, climbing back down is really the hardest part. (Kind of like when a cow climbs up stairs. Anyone?)  In order to climb back down the ladder, the safest way is to have someone at the bottom of the ladder holding it so that it doesn’t slide along the roofline. With the two of us on the roof and my mother’s disappearance, we were basically on the roof facing the decision to either risk climbing down without a ladder holder or to sit and wait.
We tried in vain to get her attention by pounding on the roof and yelling for her, but she apparently dismissed our noisemaking as our rendition of Stomp: Atlanta Home Edition.
After about 20 minutes in the cold, no tools to tap the windows with (they had already been tossed groundward before Mom went inside) we were forced to chance it. Since Scott could hold it steadier, I nervously went down the ladder first. Once on the ground, I held the ladder for Scott, and then we went inside to find my mom chatting with my grandmother on the couch, completely oblivious to our near-death experience.
Bah, humbug. Makes for a good story at least. Thank goodness it ends with a chuckle instead of with anyone bleeding or broken.

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