The Country Mice

The day dawned clear and sunny and a perusal of the roof revealed — horrors! — the gutters were jam-packed with dry arbutus leaves, a result of the recent and lengthy absence of rain. To date a grand total of three millimetres — three! — of rain has sprinkled on this little isle since June. A little spooky for a temperate rainforest.

All able-bodied workers were summoned to the roof top to start scooping.

The Princess told me she’d give me $50 — one half of her life’s savings — if I’d build her a room on the roof.

The north angle of the roof collects the moss and some kicking, picking and tossing ensued. I had maternal visions of inertia taking the tossers over the gutter’s edge to lay in a crumpled heap of broken limbs and crushed foliage but *exhale* nothing of the sort transpired.

For my part, I stayed on terra firma. Had to protect my camera, after all.

Front gutters clear, Ma’am. A few peanut shells but otherwise good.

Now a little water to check the drainpipes.

I seriously do not think Homeboy *gets* that there’s no safety net below.  On the other hand, there’s always Cirque du Soleil if the first couple of career choices don’t work out.

Another high-wire potential.

Nope. He really doesn’t get it.

So now the water comes in to the final pipe, checking for clogs, waiting, waiting…

And success! A little dribbly at the start as some accumulation of muck and dried forest works its way out of the pipes but overall a successful venture on high.

And most importantly, no need for emergency medical intervention.