Sunday, February 22, 2009

Get Down From There!

My mom always said I was a climber. I would climb everything. As a baby I climbed on the furniture, climbed in and out of the crib. I would even climb up my dad. One time, as told to me, I climbed up the front living room windows, pure buck naked. Mom said, it was funny, cute and scary. All at the same time. I was 2. For the longest time I thought my name was "GET DOWN FROM THERE"!!

As I got older I did what any boy would do, I kept climbing. On top of the house, up a tree. Another time my dad had to go get a ladder from the neighbors to help me out of a tree that I couldn't get down from. I only cared about going up. Down was just a circumstance.

Well, now I am a carpenter. And as all young carpenters should, I spent my younger years framing houses. Big houses. Tall, huge, high up, wonderful houses. My first year I got to work on a 14,000 square foot house. Talk about HUGE! The guest quarters are bigger than my house I am raising my children in. Every little chance I got, I would climb to the top and look around. It was awesome.

I hope that I have established that I am indeed a climber. Or at least that I want to climb stuff. Here comes my problem. We are getting a new ceiling at church. The ceiling was very old and had been painted before. But now is falling apart. It's a cathedral type ceiling, with wonderful large wooden beams and the ceiling is made up of patterned tiles. Kind of like drop ceiling tiles without the grid, for sound. Anyways. To get up to the peak of the ceiling and all points in between, they are using scaffolding. To put it bluntly, our church looks like a huge jungle gym. Like, the best best jungle gym ever made. I cannot focus on a homily with a contraption like that looming over my head!!

For the past few weeks I have no idea what the readings, or gospel, or whatever is about. All I see is the "jungle gym". At first I thought, "Oh cool their fixing the ceiling, sure needed it". That lasted for about five minutes. Every time I leave church without climbing and frolicking on that behemoth of a structure, a small tear runs down my face. Not really, BUT JEEZ!!!

I even want my son to appreciate it. My wife gave me the "What the hell do you think your doing?!!!" look last week. Like there is something wrong with holding your 18 month old son up so he can hang on one of the cross members. I never thought of the flip side of that. I just wanted him to want to climb like every other boy around. Well, he does want. And he does do. And his name also is "GET DOWN FROM THERE!"

I guess one good thing is, hanging in my garage is the ladder that my parents neighbor gave them to get me down, will get him down too. Thanks, Mrs. Rochford.

8 comments:

Sarah said...

My husband has the same (annoying) problem. On our way down South every spring break he is constantly goading me to pull over on the highway (!!!) so he can climb the rocks and mountains. Sure but don't expect me to be here when you come back, I say. What is it with that? I don't get it.

Anonymous said...

You need to head to Tucson and climb the mountains out there- when you get to the top the views are amazing.

Krystle said...

Haha, I just laugh at the word: Contraption... brings back lots of good memories!

june cleaver said...

My name was "Go to your room" when I was a kid.

I don't know why... I was a blessed child.

June's MA said...

Cousin Steve...
Welcome to blogsville! We look forward to your "reflections of the day". Only question I have is: can you type as fast as your brain works?

I hope this comment gets to you before Aunt Barbara arrives at your blog.

Blessings,

June's MA

Cousin Steve said...

Aunt June's Ma,

Just about everything works faster than my brain. One time I had to recite my phone number before a slug went 100 yards across a football field. I lost.

Just about everything works faster than my brain. One time I had to recite my phone number...

Steve

Anonymous said...

HAHAHA!
Cousin Steve,
Welcome to blogsville! We look forward to your "reflections of the day". Only question I have is: can you type as fast as your brain works?

I hope this comment gets to you before Aunt Peg arrives at your blog.

And thanks for the pic of St. Mary's. Lots of good memories there.
Love, Aunt Barbara

Anonymous said...

My brother climbed on top of the fridgerator before he could walk. I was 13 months older than him. Mama had her hands full.

Anyway. That picture would sure turn my brother into a climbing fanatic. "Hey, Emma(his daughter), go ahead an' see if you can climb up that scaffoldin'"

My daughter loves to rock climb those things at fairs and such. She is the fastest one -- ringing the bell before anyone else, and beating all the counselers at the church camp!! (Who are men and have done the rock thingee beforehand.)

Her boy cousins (from my youngest brother) CAN NOT STAND IT that a GIRL beats them!!
Can't wait to see if she beats Emma or not!! I think age has something to do w/ it! T