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In which I climb back on the mural that threw me

On a new ladder, of course. My husband, who graciously didn’t say “I told you so”, said the ladder could be repaired. Right. Would you trust a repaired parachute?  Anyway, when Michael came home and saw the twisted ladder flung outside, his first thought was that I had fallen off the thing and was in the hospital. (There is a minor history here. . . sigh.) So, he was relieved to learn that the mural broke the ladder rather than me!   And, you will be pleased to learn that I did not curl into a fetal position under my dining table. Instead, I took myself into the studio and sat down with my pencils to begin work on a new commissioned piece. Drawing is safe. Drawing is good. Drawing is not full of surprises. Drawing doesn’t involve large panels that succumb to gravity.                                                                                              Here is an aside: for years I have had a couple of plastic thingies in my desk drawer. Although I have no idea what purpose they serve, they look important, so I have continued to save them and wonder why. Today the mystery was solved! As I unfolded my new ladder, I found the same kind of thingie holding the legs of the ladder from flying apart. Well! Now I can throw those old thingies away with good conscience. That’s a relief. 

 814-mural.jpg

Take note of the different “feet” between panels #3 and #4. These will remain perpendicular to the panels and prevent another calamity. They also prevent the scooting together of 2 panels at one time, but stability seems to be taking precedence now. 

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