A VIEW FROM THE TOP OF THE WORLD

So, Charlie was fixing the flashing on our carport today. 

Every time we get a massive deluge here, the flashing between the house and carport fails, water pours down the face of the house and between the slab and frame, and into the friggin house.

My poor back room (and floating floor) have been flooded so many times, I’ve lost count.  I will say this: the floor has held up awesomely well considering.

Anyway, Charlie comes into the study, where I’m happily blogging, writing up recipes, updating my CWA paperwork and business accounts, and informs me that he needs my help outside.

Now, I don’t know if this happens to you, but if I need assistance with something, it’s the end of the fucken world.  I get a response that is something akin to a temper tantrum, and you would think that I’d asked him to chop his doodle off.

For fucks sake.

However, when he asks for assistance, it’s without warning and without any consideration for what I’m doing.  Sure; 9 times out of 10, I can drop everything and help him, but that 1 time (when I’m whipping egg whites or something that I can’t friggin leave), it’s the end of the world.

I seriously understand where Jade get’s her dramatic tendencies from; I really do.

Anyway, Charlie says that he needs some help with the flashing for the roof.  ‘No worries.’ I say, and following him out of the house.  ‘As long as I don’t have to get on the roof, we’re sweet.’

‘You have to get on the roof.’ He says.

‘Go fuck yourself.’ I say, and turn and walk back into the house. 

‘Wait!’ Charlie comes running after me.  ‘If you don’t help me, I won’t get this flashing fixed, and the house could flood again if we get heavy rains.’

‘Well, considering it’s suppose to be hot for like the next week, I’m sure you have plenty of time to ask Brett or Paul to come and help you,’ his brother and brother-in-law, ‘or better yet, you could ask Jimmy next door.’

‘Jimmy’s possibly out and about somewhere…’

‘That’s because he has a fucken life, and so do I, which you interrupted with your flashing aspirations…’

‘C’mon woman.  I need your help…’ he begged.  He puts on the most pitiful face I’ve ever seen (which is pretty close to his normal face, really).  *sigh* I relent, and follow him outside.  ‘Thanks sweetie.  You’re awesome.’

‘God fuck yourself.’ I mutter, and follow him to the low side of the house, where there’s a ladder propped up against the carport roof.

Now, the carport is cut into a hill, so the roofline where I’m standing is only about five foot off the ground.  I will consent at this point, that five foot is not very high.  However, when you’re asking me to haul my big arse up a ladder, fix foot may as well be fifty foot, s’far as I’m concerned anyway, because the fall is going to break pieces off o’ me regardless.

Charlie climbs up the ladder in like two strides (if that’s possible) and holds the ladder for me to climb, which takes about twenty minutes because I’m petrified.

So, as I get onto the roof, and grip his hand so hard I near break his fingers, I ask myself ‘at what point did I become afraid of heights?’  I never use to be scared of heights… what the fuck happened?

Now, I’m on the flat deck roof of the carport, breaking Charlie’s fingers, and he starts moving and pulling me in the direction he’s flapping his gums about.  I’m like ‘you’ve got me up here, I’m not fucking moving!’ and he’s like ‘for fucks sake woman, c’mon.’ and gives my arm such a massive yank, that he near rips my shoulder out of it’s socket.

Fucker.

‘Where do I step…’ I know that I have to step in certain places, because I’ll dint the roof otherwise. 

‘If you can, step on the screws…’ which makes sense, because they’re attached to rafters, which decreases the possibility of my fat arse falling through the roof, let alone dinting it.

I can see it now: the SES receiving reports that a huge heifer is stuck in a carport roof, only to roll up and see my big arse hanging in mid-air, legs flailing everywhere in a desperate attempt to hide the camel toe I’ve suffered, because the top of my leggings are mooshed up above the roofline.  Clarsy.

So Charlie drags me reluctantly across the rooftop, and I feel like I’m walking across a field of eggs; not knowing where to stand.

‘I need to you kneel down and push against this flashing here…’ he says, and points to this piece of metal that means fuck all to me, but apparently holds all the answers.

‘I don’t kneel, baby.’ I declare.  ‘This body is not built for kneeling, so think of something else.’

Charlie just looks at me.

‘For fucks sake, man.  It hurts my legs to kneel.  Do you need to make me feel anymore inadequate that I do right now?’ I ask.  ‘Let’s get a fucken move on so I can get off this fucken roof.’

So I bend over and push against this stoopid flashing,  whilst be bangs away at the other end with a block and hammer, cursing and carrying on about it not fitting, or some shit like that. 

I wasn’t’ paying attention, because I was too busy wondering if the neighbours on top of the hill a kilometre away could see my knickers.  I was bending over so much, that I’m sure my leggings were stretched to within an inch of their life across my big arse, to the point where they were translucent.  I was wondering what coloured knickers I was wearing, when Charlie said that he had fixed the flashing.

‘Thank fuck,’ I said and stood up, straightening myself. 

That’s when I looked around, and I couldn’t believe what I saw. 

The garden and property from up here looked absolutely amazing!  Seeing things from on high certainly gives a different perspective to things, I’ll tell you that.

Everything seemed… surreal.  I could see the beauty in our colourful gardens and paddocks full of dry feed… I could see the cows grazing in the back paddock, and the water in the massive dam we have… I could even see the road ½ a click away. 

‘Charlie… go get me my phone so I can take some photos…’

‘Go get it yourself.’

‘I’m not fucken getting back up here as long as I goddam live.  Go get my phone…’

‘You will be coming back up here, because I have another flashing to put in.’

‘Go fuck yourself!  I’m not getting back up here again!  Get my phone!’

‘I need your help again in about half an hour, sweetie.  So bring your phone up with you next time.’

‘Which part of I’m never coming up here again do you not understand?’

Charlie just looked at me. 

‘Get me off this fucken roof!’  I followed him back across to the roof to the ladder, making sure I stepped in the right spots so I didn’t end up breaking something (including myself), and he was down the ladders as quickly as I could blink.

‘Don’t leave me up here!’

‘I’m just holding the ladder for you, woman?’  The ladder was folded in like an ‘A’, and I bent over and gripped the top, but just couldn’t move my leg across to step onto it.  I seemed so unstable and I was so frightened of falling.  I was literally frozen to the spot. 

I stood up again and said ‘I’m too scared, Charlie.’

‘Hang on a sec…’ he said, and started pulling the ladder apart, and opening it out to it’s full length.  He leant it up against the roof, and held the base for me.  ‘There you go, that will be easier.’

He was right.  The ladder was extended up to above my head now, and I just stepped onto it, and very carefully climbed down, with young Charlie saying ‘three more steps… two more steps…’ as I climbed down with him securely behind me.

‘See, there you go.  No problems.’ He said, and wandered off to the shed, leaving me standing there shaking for about five minutes until I calmed the fuck down.  ‘You still here?’ he asked when he returned.  ‘What to come up again?’

‘Go fuck yourself!’ I barked, and stomped off toward the back door.

‘I’ll need your help again-‘

‘You listen real good, Charlie-Albert Buttler.’ I stopped and turned to him.  ‘There ain’t no way in hell I’m getting up there again, so you better make sure that second flashing fits, or else you’re fucked.’

‘But sweetie…’ was all I heard before I slammed the back door.

Would you believe he actually fixed the second flashing without my help?  The flashing itself possibly overheard our conversation, and decided it would just simply cooperate. 

As a result, I have no awesome photo’s of my property from up on high, nor will I have any, because that roof can go and get fucked.

And so can Charlie-Albert for scaring the shit out of me.

Peace out.