Cleaning the Gutters

I looked with trepidation at the wobbly ladder. Ed was showing me how to raise and lower the creaky thing. He leaned it against the roof and said, “Be careful.” I grabbed onto the sides and placed my right foot on the first rung. I looked up and took a second step. The aluminum ladder, which had looked so solid in Ed’s hands, now looked like thin metal spires heading up into the clouds. As I took a couple more steps, the ladder shook and rattled against the aluminum gutters. I retraced my steps and quickly got back on solid ground.

“It’s really shaky!” I told Ed.

“That’s the nature of an extension ladder,” he calmly said.

Ed’s calm statements infuriate me.

The other week, I consistently heard a squeaky noise when I backed up the van. I asked Ed what it could be.

“I don’t know,” he calmly said.

See? Infuriating!

He gave me the number of an auto shop he thought we should start using; it would be cheaper to go there than take my van to the dealer. Ed actually knew that pesky squeak was probably the brakes. I called and made all the arrangements, including having a friend take me to pick up my car when it was ready.

After spending most of the day without a car, my friend came to drive me to the auto shop. As we were driving, she casually said, “Oh, my husband takes care of our cars.”

ARGH! Inwardly I seethed. Back when I was single, I had always thought it would be nice to have a husband who would take care of my car. This hasn’t transpired. Logically thinking, I know why my husband doesn’t take care of my car. I’ve always done it; he has to work and I stay home; it’s not that big of a deal. I won’t even go into the time Ed forgot to call me back when I was stranded in a Walgreen’s parking lot with car trouble.

I did get a husband, however, who takes care of the gutters. Why in the world would I want to climb up that extension ladder and start cleaning gutters myself? Because I wanted to see the new roof and new gutters that I had chosen on my own. Ed’s long hours at work left me in charge of calling various roofing companies to get estimates. I had compared different types of shingles and gutters. I considered roof vents and chimney covers. I wanted to get a closer look at the roof I chose.

I grabbed the sides of the ladder while Ed calmly held the side and started stepping up. Once I got up to the gutters, I looked at the roof.

It looked pretty much the same as it did from the ground.

I began throwing the leaves out of the gutters and onto the ground. Ed puttered around the yard, doing other work that needed to be done. By the time I took the ladder to the back of the house, I was moving it around and up and down like a pro.

Noisy car? No problem. Clogged gutters? Got it. There’s a water shut-off valve in my bathroom that doesn’t work. I’m going to calmly tell Ed we need to call a plumber.

up on a ladder
It was windy up there!

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Nighttime Duet

Ed’s voice usually starts first, and then from the other room, my voice joins in. His voice, muted through the cracked doorway, blends with mine, as we read different stories together.

Lily is almost three years older than Emmy. Her taste in books right now is different, so Ed is reading Lemony Snicket to her now as I read Little House on the Prairie to Emmy.

Our voices, together, yet not the same.

He ends first. He comes in to kiss Emmy goodnight.

I finish the chapter, put the bookmark in. Then give in to Emmy’s begging to read just 2 more pages.

Kisses all around, covers tucked in, last sips of water given. I turn out the lights.

Good night, Emmy. Good night, Lily.

Sweet dreams.

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