We live in a very old house.
It's about 120 years old.
We're not really sure, because (according to the story we've been told) the courthouse where the deeds were stored in our county burned down in the early 1900s and all of the deeds burned with it. After the fire, properties were re-deeded back to around the time of the fire. As with any old house, there's always maintenance that needs to be done. Like, you know, the entire exterior of our house. When we bought our house, the interior had been redone entirely with beautiful hardwood floors, a new kitchen with stainless steel appliances, and all of the original moldings and trim work had been restored. The outside? Sort of looks like a haunted house. There were vines growing on it, paint peeling, no real landscaping to speak of, and several clapboards that need replacing. You know the old saying, you can't judge a book by its cover.....
Fast forward to the molding above Katie's window falling off. . . From about 20 feet up in the air! We need to replace the molding, but there was also a small hole where the corner of the molding had been. I have been nagging Chris constantly gently reminding Chris that the hole needs to be repaired and needed to be done about six months ago. Keep in mind, this is a second story window and is roughly 25 feet up.
My parents were over last weekend, and Chris and my dad dragged the extension ladder around to the front of the house to get started on the project. First Chris took a look.
Then my dad took a look. I really didn't want my dad up on the ladder. He's quite capable of fixing the issue, but he's also absolutely the most accident prone person I've ever met in my life. He's cut off the tip of his finger, broken his hand starting a weed eater, been in a motorcycle accident, been in a head on collision, hit himself in the face with a bungee cord and had to get stitches, ripped a gaping gash in his leg fixing a hot tub. . . I could go on and on. I saw nothing but potential for sudden death with him on a 32 foot extension ladder.
Once Chris determined what he needed to do, we (meaning everyone but Chris, because let's be honest, he was the only person doing any work at this point) had a sit on the porch. And yes, Jack is wearing a cape. And Katie is wearing no pants. This is how we roll.
Chris changed his shorts so they wouldn't fall off at the top of the ladder so he had a pocket to put a hammer in and - after a lot of psyching himself up - climbed up with his hammer, a board to repair the hold, and some nails.
And the board was too big.
He came back down the ladder, went back to the shed, cut the board down, and came back to the front of the house.
Up he went again.
All in all, it seriously took him less than five minutes on the ladder to fix it.
And then our neighbor came over and said he could bring a cherry picker home from work in a few weeks and zip him up there to finish the project.... I was waiting for Chris to kiss the man on the lips, he was so excited not to have to go back up the ladder.
And I was excited to not have to verify his coverage on his life insurance policy.
