Around the time the kitchen was being completed, I got up on the roof to clean the gutters. Heights do not bother me and I had the attitude (then) of fearlessness that I could do anything. Behind the big pitch of the front roof it was flat, so once you got on the flat part you were safe. Well, after removing all of the leaves from the flat part I got cocky and decided to blow off the leaves off of the garage. Remember, all of the sloped parts of the roof were cedar shakes so they were especially slippery.
And you guessed it, I fell off the roof. As I was sliding off I remember that sick sick feeling of OMG I'm falling but I'll catch myself I'll catch myself oh no I won't...It was about 1 1/2 stories. I landed on some of the huge azalea bushes. Remarkably, I didn't break anything. One of the azalea limbs punctured my shin and I landed on my knee. Poor Elliott felt awful, because I was the one up on the roof. We all know whose fault it was--the house's fault.
He took me to the hospital where I endured many jokes about staying off the roof. I still have a big scar on my shin. And honestly, it was just another curse of the house. Yes we were getting the awesome addition and that was wonderful, but it was as if the house couldn't let us have it without something going wrong.
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