Every year, my neighborhood holds a holiday house lighting competition. The night before the judging, I noticed one bulb was out on my eaves. I got out the ladder, set it up and proceeded to climb. Did I mention we were in the middle of an ice storm? The ladder slid down the wall like laundry over a washboard—with me still hanging on at the top. My 13-year-old came out to see what the noise was and found me lying in the snow with blood all over my face.
I spent the evening in the hospital with a deviated septum and stitches on the side of my nose. I never did get that light fixed and am now not allowed on ladders. My family still teases me about my Christmas light display as my husband and son put up the lights every year.Karyl S. Tallant-Leathem
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