A Boy with a Bird's Eye View--and Two Moms That Were Chickens

Our pastor and his wife are having their house painted. This seems like a detail irrelevant to this blog until I tell you that they live only a few blocks from us AND that the walls and gingerbread of their three-story, nineteenth-century beauty require a hydraulic "man lift" to reach.

After dinner on Monday and per their invitation, we took a wagon ride to their house to inspect this piece of heavy equipment. The painter happened to be preparing to leave as we arrived, and he offered to take our boy for a ride in the bucket. Let's just say he didn't have to offer twice.

I figured the ride would be just a few feet straight up and back down. I was mistaken. After shifting course to avoid damaging the porch, the bucket's occupants checked out a tall pine tree and inspected the roof of the second story from well above it--all while the lady of the house and I looked on with a mixture of bemusement and terror.

He did make it safely down. And luckily for you, kind Mrs. M. was not too terrified to snap a photo or two to commemorate the occasion.