Commiserations! Bloody dangerous things ladders. I remember a colleague stringing up bunting for a party 15 feet up when the base slipped out and he crashed to the ground breaking both thumbs under the side rails. He had massive plaster casts on each hand like boxing gloves for weeks.
That was when he discovered the nature of his friendships. Fake friends wouldn’t even go to the bar for him. Real mates would stick a pint between his mitts. Fortunately there was this gay bloke who would manipulate his zip etc., in the gents.
Anyway I am just happy it’s all slowly resolving itself for Gazza because we break easier and fix slower with age. It’s what has brought me to sell my bike in the coming months. ”A man’s gotta know his limitations.” I think I am just realising mine with a garden full of fallen trees to buck.
