Years ago, after my dad died, Richard was piddling around at their house and ran across this old ladder. He recognized it as being Daddy's so he decided to bring it home to (one day) make a quilt ladder from the side with the rungs. The balance side was missing several pieces. It got put in a corner of Richard's shed and forgotten. Until...
I had gone out to ask Richard something. I rarely go out to his shed because it is just too hot! But Richard was doing something near that corner where the ladder was and I happened to see it. Oh yes! Of course, at the time life had us by the ear and there was no way either of us could take on another thing. So there it stayed. There in the corner of the shed and in the back of my mind.
Last week I climbed on a milk crate, so I could reach the top of an old crawfish burner and onto the top of a stack of wood piled on a
barrel (maybe?) It's much heavier than it looks, so moving it from the corner past the mountain required more muscle than I have. So I climbed farther into the corner which, admitted was a bit precarious and scary. How many snakes, rats, or opossums might I be disturbing anyway? At this point I was able to get enough leverage to move the ladder, tilt it sideways and slide it over the mountain peak and onto the dirt floor where the snakes would surely be lying in wait.
Once the ladder was situated in the snake pit, I started the downward climb. You know how people say, "Don't look down"? How do you know where your feet are if you follow that sage advice? As I contemplated that universal question, I maneuvered contortion-like to the ladder and dragged it to the front of the shed where Richard and Adam were discussing some mundane subject.
And that's where my story ends because, you see dear reader, Richard took over the project as I knew he would. Sure he'd have done all the climbing and whatever, but I needed to be able to claim reward for something, so I had to do something. Apparently I'm only afraid of heights when I am perfectly safe, such as in a stadium, on a real mountain, or on a balcony.
Richard hosed off the dusty cobwebs and the following day asked me what I wanted done. I had a couple of changes: cut the top rung in half to make two quilt ladders, remove the paint shelf and use the wood to replace the missing rungs, and reinforce whatever needed reinforcing.
Voila! Check out my quilt ladders made from my daddy's old wooden ladder with authentic scratches and paint drips and split rungs. The pictures here are of the ladder in our bedroom. The other one is in the dining room, waiting for me to put a table in storage and open a corner of the living room. It will display quilts that I'll occasionally change out.
Well done for braving the climb! It was well worth it as both halves of your ladder look great. I like that it is functional, nice to look at and also carries memories of your dad.
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