I am writing this from a hospital bed on Sunday evening. What happened, you ask?

Yeah, um, I kinda fell, about 20 feet off an extension ladder while putting up Christmas lights… no big deal.

OK, it is a bit of a big deal. I fractured my pelvic bone in two places. Do you wanna hear the whole sordid story? Sure you do! We all know how much people love to tell their accident stories to anyone within earshot. Of course, I do too, so here goes.

Let me begin by acknowledging that we all have our fears and phobias. I, for instance, am deathly afraid of fire. Strange for someone who uses fire in the form of a gas range every day, but I’m not afraid of that sort of controlled fire.

I’m afraid of fire in fireplaces, or campfires, the sort of fires that can easily and quickly get out of control and rapidly spread. In fact, thirteen years ago when we moved into the home we now live in, I insisted, against a lot of opposition from Dave and the kids, that we switch from a real Christmas tree to an artificial tree because the house is a 2-story and I couldn’t even think of the kids sleeping upstairs with a real (and eventually dry, crispy, fire-hazard) tree downstairs.

That said, let me quickly assure you that I am not in the hospital due to a fire. I mention the whole fear and phobia thing to let you know that my husband, Dave, is afraid of heights.

Because of that, every Christmas when we put up the lights on our house, he puts up all the lights except for the ones on the two high gables. I climb the extension ladder and put those portions up. He deals with extending the huge ladder and securing it and I climb it and put up those lights. He also holds the ladder while I climb up and while I’m up there… holding it the entire time until I descend. Above is a 2008 photo of the side gable, which I did first this year and, as usual for the last 12 years, all went well and without incident.

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