Today Cro posted about repairing his roof.
I am exceptionally wary of heights.
I used to rock climb but only because I loved abseiling. Don't ask me why I had no fear of, and actually enjoyed, abseiling but I did. However climbing up in order to do it scared the pants off me.
A friend nearly died when he was us a step ladder and it slipped. He could not have fallen more than his own height. We all have many such stories.
Friends had a house in the Poitou Charente. He was not good with heights to the extent that anything over a few inches from the ground was a problem. So, in the early days of this century, he asked me if I would "walk the roof". I understand that is what the French call the practice of getting onto the pantile roof and walking along it putting back into place the tiles which had been dislodged by the winter storms. In this case my task was also to photograph any more serious damage.
So I duly, walked the roof. I repaired all that I could and photographed that which I could not.
The plan was that the materials would be purchased at the local bricolage and I would repair the roof.
I should now tell you, dear reader, that it was a large roof comprising the house and barn. To the front the drop from the roof was only about 2½ times my height but at the back there was a very much more considerable drop. So being the feartie that I am I got a climbing rope that could be anchored on the front of the building enabling me to repair the back of the building. If I slipped I would not fall off the roof and could be hauled back up to the ridge.
As it happened my friend abandoned the plan for that spring and I never did have to get up and do the full repairs.
That is me!
