A LITTLE ATTIC HUMOR
Today is April 27, 2004 and had a busy weekend catching
up on some things like replacing the attic fan motor pulley and oiling the
bearings of which I need to replace the motor but it will survive until cold
weather. I can truly say I know about how a sardine feels inside one of
those tin plated metal flat rectangular containers. The reason I can make
that statement is the fact the opening inside one of the closets is 17 5/8
inches square that allows access to the attic. In the closet above the
clothing rod is an upper shelf that is less that two (2) feet below this
small opening. It was enough of a hassle to get my large frame, ok fat
frame, big boned or if you are
really weight sensitive “stout” frame onto the shelf
to begin with and then inch myself through the opening and somehow pull
myself into the attic. This was the easy part, not to mention crawling on
my knees from ceiling joist to ceiling joist and hoping that I didn’t loose
my balance and fall through the sheet rock breaking bone and limb on the
first level. I guess the pull down attic stairs/ladder hadn't been
invented when this house was built in 1956 and the construction crew members
weighted less than 125 pounds soaking wet.
As I stated, that was the easy part. The hard part is
like the instructions you get with taking a piece of equipment apart for
repairs following steps A through H and then to put the thing back together;
the following is usually spelled out: Reverse steps H through A and
will a mild case of intermittent dyslexia or it could be that date on my
birth certificate, a daylight hours nightmare in the making!
So here I go, crawling back to the opening and by now
the attic temperature is over a hundred degrees and I can’t see because of
all the sweat running off my forehead pouring right into my eye balls and
now my visibility is about one foot or less. When I finally arrived at the
attic entry/exit hole that now has shrunk to the size of a postage stamp and
I can’t remember exactly how I positioned myself into it from the shelf in
the closet. My first attempt got me through the opening and onto the shelf
but I could not turn around. Now, I felt like one of those raccoons caught
in my live trap.
I had to calm myself down because there was no way I
was getting off the closet shelf because I was facing the wrong direction.
Don’t ask me how but I got off the shelf facing forward when I should have
been turned the other direction. You can rest assured, the next trip I make
into the attic crawl space replacing the damaged pulley, that I backed into
the opening and backed out off the shelf but having your leg hanging off the
closet shelf suspended in mid air “feeling” for a rung on the ladder is not
good for the blood pressure. It was a most wonderful feeling when my right foot finally
made contact with the ladder at the correct place. Wheeewwww!
With that out of the way, the ole Robin weed eater was
quickly serviced with a “shake and bake” job of blowing debris from the
machine with about 40 lbs. of air pressure and mixing a fresh gallon of
gas/oil mixture. The weed eater was filled with gas three (3) times
that day and those were some intense hours slinging the weeds, sticks,
rocks, pine cones, etc. seemingly right onto my arms or across and onto my
face leaving several whelps. I forgot to mention that I still had
flashbacks of last fall’s weed eater experience when ground nesting yellow
jackets not only ran me out of the back yard but also ran me out of my
clothing while running full speed toward the house and I was still attached
to the weed eater by the shoulder strap. That would have been a ten
thousand dollar video winner for sure! Seven (7) yellow jackets
managed to deposit their venom and a few left their stingers still attached
and the stingers were still pumping venom without the benefit of their own
bodies which I had slapped and thrashed off my person.
The lounge chair and/or couch is definitely call my
name and I plan to answer as soon as possible.
Web published by Bill aka Mickey Porter 11-10-12.