 27/03/2008, 6:16 PM
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Simon Ireson
Joined on 27/03/2008
Spixworth
Posts 1
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![Stick out tongue [:P]](/cs/emoticons/emotion-4.gif)
My dad on the roof...
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So here I am, standing on the bottom rung of a thirty-foot ladder. High above me, clothed in aged brown overalls, my father stands on my roof. One foot is on a flat, metal plate attachment that dates from 1950, the other foot on a wooden roof beam, exposed when the tile had previously been slid upwards. The ladder itself is one my wife and I found in our garage when we moved in. It looks ok, wood slightly worm-ridden, but generally sound. It didn’t look quite so good a few minutes ago when my father’s transferred his full weight onto it as he stepped from the metal ladder to this untested support and then up the tiles. --- It would not be so bad if I could be involved. However, I am charged with keeping the ladder from slipping, clearly an important job. My main concern is not of this task, more how I would attempt to catch my falling father without sacrificing myself as an airbag. I will admit that he is doing a marvellous job of replacing some worn out weather-board. I just wish he could replace it without momentarily standing on one leg; twisting out beyond the ladder; reaching as far as he could to retrieve the hammer from the flat roof. --- Of course I shouldn’t worry, it’s my dad. Never one to fall off a roof my father. He might slip slightly or drop something, for effect. Perhaps hammer his thumb or catch his finger between wood and building. But fall off the roof? No. Of course anyone else trying it would be doing everything wrong. Not one to manage someone doing the job he could do himself, my dad. I remember learning how to saw a piece of wood, something I still can’t do properly. I would start ok, then the saw would catch, then I would receive pages two to thirty-two on ‘correct sawing practice’, followed by eight demonstrations on the remaining nine pieces to be cut. --- Don’t get me wrong. My father will do anything for anyone and I am more than grateful that he is on my roof ensuring the rain won’t come in. He will do a fantastic job, he always does, and the bits he touches will outlast the house. I just wish he would do things at ground level. At least when he’s biting his tongue because you are going up and down with the brush rather than long, side-to-side strokes none of us can fall. --- See, there he goes again, shifting from one foot to the other, legs shaking slightly as the balance is restored. I started this day thirty-three, now I’m about forty. My father is over seventy but by the time he is back on terrafirma I’m sure we will be the same age. --- Soon it will all be over and it’s cup of tea time. I know it’s a tea-bag in a cup and not a proper pot, I will at least try to make it the right colour. My father is a man who sees the little things in life as the important things. I grew up with ‘Turn the handle’ and ‘Is the towel on the bath?’ ringing in my ears. But I also grew up with knowing right from wrong and how things should be done properly or not at all. --- I love my father and I am glad he didn’t fall. Must go now though, didn’t put enough sugar in his tea…
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