It was on Christmas Eve, 1998 or so, and we were having a slight leak showing up in our living room ceiling. I was going to get up on the roof to see if I could see were it was coming from and put some pitch under the offending shingle(s) to save the day. I got the ladder and set it up and made the critical leap from the ladder to the roof. I hadn't noticed before that there was a rime covering the shingles, and there I was, on my hands and knees, scared to move one iota. Then I slid about two inches and stopped. My heart went to my throat and I thought Oh $hit, I'm going to break my neck on Christmas Eve. Somehow I got down on the ladder, and then to the ground. I was shaking like a leaf. Ever since then it's a real struggle for me to go up on the roof unless it's absolutely necessary. Last week was one of those days. I put my cell phone in my pocket just in case I fell off and was still conscious enough to dial 911. I also took the camera to take some shots. I must've looked like an idiot up there with a leaf blower, taking pictures, but what the hell, I'll do anything for my blog.