Dear John,
I took another step today - actually several steps, and very unpleasant ones. I got out the extension ladder and went crawling around on the roof. And you know how afraid of heights I am - I don't even like standing on a chair. But there I was, hammer in my hand and roofing nails in my pocket, crawling around on my hands and knees on the roof.

The whole thing was unduly challenging. First I had to get the extension ladder down off the wall in the garage, which required bench-pressing it over my head. Then I carried it to the front yard and had to figure out how to work it. I got up it okay, but when I got to the point of having to climb over the top of the ladder and get onto the roof, I froze for a bit. But pride overcame terror - I couldn't bear the thought of getting stuck up there and having to have somebody call the fire department to bring a cherry picker to get me off my own roof - and in a small town, too, with a volunteer fire department. Unbearable. So I climbed over the top of the ladder. I crawled around the roof - couldn't bring myself to stand up - realized that I couldn't fix it, then had to do the whole thing in reverse. So I went backwards over the top of the ladder. From there it was easy, just climbing down the ladder. The I did the bench-pressing routine again in the garage. And I came inside and threw up.
Bob is going to rescue me, bless his sweet heart. He's done roofing before. And he's a sensible creature, and won't need to be rescued by a skyhook. They're so good to me. Or maybe they don't want the embarrassment of having a neighbor having to call the volunteer fire department to get me down off of my own roof.
See what you're missing? See what a big girl I am? I couldn't fix it, but I think it's quite an accomplishment to have gotten up there and checked it out. I love being able to stay here in our house. But I have to admit that there are times I think wistfully about renting!
Love you so much,
Joan.
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