Ricky

What was even less mature was climbing onto the roof without any safety system other than sunblock. No Time to Die

Regular readers probably have a special groan reserved for each instalment of “Ricky attempts home renovations”. Due to my reliable ineptitude in the handyman area, these instalments are mercifully rare. But I’ve also had good feedback. The columns work as a sort of warning. If you listen carefully, you might hear magazine pages turning and couples proclaiming to each other, “See, this is why we need to hire a tradesperson.” So I’m really performing a public service: keeping actual skilled people employed, and keeping families safe. I’m proud of that.

My last foolish attempt at being useful around the house resulted in what’s jauntily become known as the “asbestos shower” incident, when I pulled down our carport, which the previous owners had thoughtfully designed to be 10 centimetres narrower than the width of a car. So hopes weren’t high when I announced I would be tackling one of the most dangerous house-related jobs known to man (and yes, it’s usually only men who are silly enough): cleaning the roof tiles.

I’m not sure on the exact stats, but I believe at last estimate 500,000 men a year crack their skulls open by falling off a ladder around the home. Or falling off the roof. Even if those figures are slightly out, we all know it’s a dangerous job. Which of course is what attracted me to it.

I’ve climbed mountains, done high rope courses, and watched countless black-andwhite slapstick videos involving ladders, so I figured I was well qualified for the job. Being too cheap to pay an expert to do the job was another qualification, it could be argued.

Let me say right away: high-pressure washers are fun. If you haven’t accidently blasted water at 1500kPa at your bare feet, I urge you to try. Actually I take that back. Please do not try this. I should have known the power of water under intense pressure. I once saw a YouTube video where some guy cut through the Earth’s surface using the same machine I was able to deploy on my roof.

Before you start thinking I was reckless, I should explain that I had some practice before climbing onto the roof. I discovered that I could wash our driveway clean using the high-pressure washer. “Could” is the key word here, because I discovered that you could also use it to draw certain shapes on the driveway. It prompted the first encouraging comment of the day: “Oh, that’s really mature, Ricky.”

What was even less mature was climbing onto the roof without any safety system other than sunblock. My 14-year-old son was far too sensible to go anywhere near the ladder, so I put him in charge of ground-level operations, namely providing power to the washer on the roof via a great many linked extension cords lying in puddles on the ground. What could possibly go wrong?

My mission was to remove the lichen that was growing on the roof tiles, as our home was starting to look like one of those multi-million-dollar architecturally designed houses where they put the garden on the roof. I undertook training on how to safely and effectively remove the lichen – I watched a YouTube video – which said I had to spray the stuff with bleach. What the video didn’t say was that bleach makes roof tiles very slippery.

Now, I would love to report a grand calamity – life is nothing if not a series of painful lessons – but I’m afraid I can’t lie to you. The thing is, I kind of did a good job, and I didn’t fall. I know, it’s weird. I almost felt, dare I say it…competent. It was a small let-down, to be honest, but also nice to be alive.

Sometimes life has anticlimactic endings. Columns, too.

Ricky is a writer, musician and home handyman daredevil.