Up on the roof, hugging the chimney for safety

Up on the roof, hugging the chimney for safety

OK, so I admit it.  Sometimes it’s rough to open the door and go outside.  It’s even rougher to write a blog about something….anything….that might sound the slightest bit interesting. 

Every morning I think:  there’s nothing interesting to write about.  There’s nothing interesting to say.  How many more times can I write about bird wings or deer tracks in the snow?  Do I have to run the length of the Upper Peninsula searching for entertaining tidbits?  What possibly could there be outside the front door which is interesting, funny, challenging, beautiful, awful, wonderful?

Every day something presents itself.  Something interesting (at least to me!) begins to wind itself into some sort of monologue.  It’s very intriguing to watch one develop a discipline.  One plows along ahead, even though every thought, emotion and physical indication may be attempting to hijack the commitment. 

Today I shoveled the deck.  As you may recall, my husband has been shoveling the roof.  The heavy icy snow from the roof then falls down on the deck, and must  be re-shoveled down to ground level.  New snow has been predicted, so the shovel has been the most popular item in the household this week.

So I spent at least a half hour tossing the heavy chunks of snow downward.  It was a beautiful blue sky afternoon.  Relatively warm at 20 degrees.  Afterward, Barry came cheerfully in with The Announcement.

“You must come up on the roof for your blog,” he said. 

Now he knows I am a height-challenged soul.  What is he saying?  What is he insisting?  My first response is:  “NO!  Absolutely not!  I have tried this before and my body freezes in fright up there.  They won’t be able to move from the ladder.  What are you thinking?”

However, something else inside says, “You need a bigger view.  A higher vantage point.  You need to look at this daily commitment from a different angle.  Come on up.  You can do it.”

Who can say no to that voice when it sounds so wise?  Shaking in my boots, I climbed that ladder.  (I really don’t want to describe the fear that accompanied all this.  It was heart-pounding, scary and downright challenging.)  The hardest part was planting the foot from the ladder onto the roof without toppling back towards earth….way….down….there…..

But Barry helped and suddenly I was on the roof!!  Mission accomplished!!  The vista expanded.  Through the trees you could even see the infamous Huron Bay!

The astounding view of the Huron Bay from our rooftop!

The astounding view of the Huron Bay from our rooftop!

Can you see the bay?  It’s only a quarter mile away.  As soon as the trees drop their leaves in autumn, the shiny lake’s surface shimmers through the stark branches.  I love it when this view appears.  And from the roof top, it’s even more awesome.

I’d like to say I was courageous and mature and stoic, but the truth of the matter was that I reached the top without much dignity.  Every step scared me.  I began to appreciate even more the shoveling Barry has been doing twenty to thirty feet from the ground.

There is something positive to report from the high vantage point of the roof.  I feel something new is hatching.  My friend said it takes 40 days to form a new habit, 40 days in which to change one’s attitude and embrace a new commitment or resolution.

It will be 40 days tomorrow of spending time in the great U.P. outdoors.  I am thinking….almost….that it’s going to be fine.  That it’s time to give the voice “You can do it!” a bit more credibility than the voice which insists it can’t be done.