In the gutter

 

June 13, 2022

 

Greetings from a great height,

 Every once in a while, I find myself in a situation where afterward I say “I need to spend more time doing that.” 

 Typically, these are the golden moments we hope we will come across in our day.  We meet someone interesting, create a friendship, we see a beautiful sunset, we hit our stride doing something we love, or perhaps discover a talent we didn’t know we possessed.

 This week I cleaned my gutters. 

 There are things you can buy that will prevent your gutters from filling with debris.  These can be as simple as small fixtures that attach at the downspouts, or guards that cover all of the gutters.  These don’t work on my house.  Because I forgot to buy them and put them on.

 I have avoided doing this fascinating work for several years, owing to a full schedule and a healthy fear of hurtling to the earth without means of resisting gravity.  At first, I ‘let nature take its course’, which is a sophisticated way of procrastinating.  When nature took its course, which means choked the eves troughs with leaves, then I ‘delegated’, also a sophisticated way of procrastinating, it turns out.

 I delegated to a guy who, for legal reasons, we will call ‘Tony’.  Also because that’s his name.  Tony undoubtedly has many fine abilities, but his gutter cleaning skills I will say, again for legal reasons, are atrocious.  Imagine having that reputation.

 The result of all this procrastinating was that every time it rained, we would have magnificent waterfalls cascading over the rooflines.  I found this enjoyable to watch, reminiscent of a Frank Lloyd Wright design, but the majority of the other people living here found it objectionable.  And so, I gleefully attacked the job of gutter cleaning.  Yes, ‘full of glee’ is how I would describe that.

 I could have delegated this job to another Tony, but I needed an interesting story to share with my brother, whose life lacks the complex texture of my own, and yearns to hear more about my gleeful home repair escapades.

 I hauled my extension ladder from the garage, after moving a generation of life’s flotsam from around it, including an authentic lawn mower I forgot I owned.  (I’ll share lawn mowing stories later, I don’t want to overwhelm my brother with too much excitement.)  I clambered lithely up the ladder (using the term ‘lithely’ liberally) and scampered across the roof.  By ‘scampered’ I mean clung desperately to the shingles, my legs trembling like a newborn fawn’s.

 There are devices you can buy to make working on your roof safely.  Harnesses and hooks and nets and other such things.  But these don’t work on my house.  Because I forgot to buy them and put them on.

 The likelihood of falling from my roof and ruining the impeccable landscaping below is fairly slim, which why the majority of the other people living here was willing to risk the hibiscus and rhododendron, or whatever those things are.  Of course, I didn’t know the exact odds against falling from a great height while cleaning, but every time I looked down at the earth, which somehow became several thousand feet away, the odds didn’t matter.  Because odds won’t break your fall.

 There are more disgusting things than rotted leaves and needles soaking in a stew of green rainwater which has been fermenting since the Bush presidency.  (W, not 41, I’m not a complete barbarian).  I was going to start that list of disgusting things, but I only got as far as the pizza they served at Chuck E Cheese and my mind went blank.

 Anyway, aside from the smell, and the slime, and the occasional gagging when I discovered something recognizable in the ooze, it really was more than a disgusting experience, it was also a little scary, and crawling around on the hot shingles made my knees ache.  So I had that going for me.

 I began by saying that every once in a while I find myself in a situation where afterward I say “I need to spend more time doing that.”  (I scrolled back to check just now, because it didn’t really sound like something I would say in this context.)  Here’s the truth of it.

 This little job won’t matter to anyone, (including my brother, unless he’s having a really dull day) and its completion is invisible to everyone, other than the neighbors who may have enjoyed the magnificent waterfall display previously mentioned.  But it mattered to me for a few hours.

 It is satisfying to do a simple thing, to put your hand to a basic task and think only about what is in front of you.  There is a sense of accomplishment seeing the real result of that effort, in this case watching the water run freely along the eves trough, and swirl and gurgle down some unseen path to the soil below. 

 It is not a vocation or a hobby or even an inspiration to spend more time cleaning the gutters.  It is, however, a reminder of the truth inside of this.  In nearly everything we do there exists the same satisfaction, the same sense of accomplishment.  It is often hidden by routine, or resentment, or the desire to do anything else, and occasionally hidden by slimy, rotting leaves. 

 There is beauty in everything we do if we seek it.  If we bring it.

 

 

Hope this finds you uncovering,

 

David

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright © 2022  David Smith