Seven years have passed

It is now the time of year when my fathers passing draws close , this being the seventh year. I always think i’ll probably make this my final post on the subject but never do. I will always love and miss him with each passing day , especially when I am out working. Sometimes , it can be hard not to remember things and times gone by.

Indeed the good old days , with no masks , just some old clothes , and a pair of half gutted training shoes , haha. There once was a time before roof ladders too and I remember being quite reluctant to use it for the first 5 or so years after my father bought it. Yes , it was useful for the few jobs I felt were too risky otherwise but it was cumbersome , weighed heavy and I just didn’t like it.

When I think of just some of the many many acrobatic feats my father and I performed daily through the 70’s 80’s and 90’s I get a big warm glow inside. Just knowing that there are very few who could or would be able to do anything like what we used to do ; makes me appreciate the uniqueness of the skillset we had to develop and keep polished just to survive each coming week of the season. The customers too , often we would have lovely old ladies prepare banquet sized feasts for us , amazing. Everything all prepared for us coming with military precision , no chambermaid duties for us.

I also think back to my very first climb onto a roof , which must have been 1974 because I was only THREE years old. This was near the top end of Sutherland drive in new farm loch , Kilmarnock. I actually remember that day pretty well despite it being closer to 50 years ago than I’d care to admit. I remember due to the way idiots were driving up and down the street , my father decided it was safer for me to come up on the roof with him and just sit about 3 or 4 foot up from the gutter’s edge. It really was a very slow slope anyway and I being a natural monkey , had already climbed many much more dangerous things by then.

I had been wearing my bright red welly boots that day and was enjoying the views when a certain (“long john silver” they called him a promotion-hungry, gung~ho) police ‘person’ arrived on the scene. I remember climbing back down and standing inside the customers garden gate. Also getting angry with him because basically , he was being a dick to my dad.

Anyway, luckily for us the case got dismissed in court by the infamous Sherrif D. Smith who astutely listened to my father’s honest version of events and realised I was never in any danger. For whatever reasons the court reporters decided to run with the story and so I ended up on the front page of the Kilmarnock standard newspaper. The headline was I am led to believe, “The welly boot kid”

Seven years may have passed but the great memories remain forever. Love and miss you always dad.