Requiem for a particular kind of ladder.
Nowhere in this world can you buy a good old-fashioned single-ladder any more. Double-ladders are everywhere—like Vauxhalls, or bits of wood—and you might, peradventure, hazard across a triple-ladder in your local B&Q…but you won’t happen upon a good old-fashioned single-ladder. It’s extinct. Somebody wiped them out.
Go to Jackie Brown’s in Ballynahinch, though, and you will find a single-ladder. Not one by birth, however. It was born a double-ladder, but father pleaded that it should be bisected into two entities, and that he should acquire the larger half.
That half is now his. He was charged half-price.
Posted on Tuesday March 22nd
About me
I'm Jack. Sometimes my hair is untidy, riddled with goblins and smurfs. When I scream into the Grand Canyon, it inspires pained howling in wild dogs and wily coyotes, and compels all leaf-eating mammals to scuttle for higher ground in wait of the great flood. I think Goku is an existential paragon. My life's trajectory is adjusted towards becoming a hermit and dying alone somewhere on top of a golden mountain at sunset. Which is a jolly good innings, all told.
