Lorie vs. the ladder (the sequel)

You won't believe it, loyal readers, but I made it up to the third floor today! Don't tell my mom, but after very kind encouragement from Adam and Mike, I found the resolve to conquer (or at least momentarily suppress) my fear and climb the ladder to the third floor. Unlike the relatively manageable ladder to the second floor, the ladder to the third floor extends over the gaping abyss of our three-story light well. Were one to fall off of the ladder, one could be in the air for entire seconds before hitting the none-too-yielding floor below! Like me, Mike has the sense to fear such a fate, so I had an understanding supporter. After much hemming and hawing, Mike said we should both go up. If he can do it, so can I, I thought, so once he went up, I did, too. Did I feel like throwing up? Yes. Did my knees feel like tapioca pudding? Yes. Do I want to do it again? God, no. Get those stairs in there, boys!

Seriously, though, it was amazing to finally get to see our room, the spare room, and our bathroom. I love it all. Our room is small, but enough for a bed and two end tables, which is all we need. The walk-in closet is glorious. Sure, John will just fill it with his 1,000 coats, but it's still great. Since I was on a roll, I went up the bathroom ladder to poke my head out of the skylight and see the roof. The roof will be like a little park in the sky, among the tree tops. It's better than I had hoped for. I can't wait to see the little patio up there!