I was up on the roof today, trying to get the AE-35 Unit straightened, and when I jumped, I think I broke my leg. How was I to know that I am not Pumaman, Ancient Defender of the Aztec Peoples?
Yes, jumped. I know, pretty foolish, but it was so bitingly cold this morning (45 degrees) that I didn't want to take the slow way (the ladder) back down again.
Yeah, I can hear you Yankees laughing. "45 degrees is not cold," you say. Well, maybe not to you, living up there where hot tea is a necessity, but spend one week down here in summer and I'll watch you wilt like an azalea on a sidewalk while I sip iced tea (sweet and dark) and giggle. When you get accustomed to 105 degree heat indexes, 45 degrees out is suddenly rather chilly. And heck, I'm one of the few who are more acclimated to the cold; try riding a motorcycle in 45 degree weather. 45 degrees outside, mix in a 65 mph wind chill, and suddenly it feels like you've been jammed up a polar bear's bum.