I was sitting at my desk, minding my own business when I heard a loud crunch, followed by a crash and two muffled thuds. It took me far longer to react then it probably should have, something about it being before noon deadens my ninja skills.

There were plumbers at the house fixing the gutters on the front of the house. It turns out that in Australia, this is a plumber job. Weird, I know. And in fact this story probably indicates that plumbers should stick to digging around in the soil. Anyway, they (they being the young apprentice tradies) apparently decided they both needed to be up on the edge of the roof for someone reason. This house is probably a hundred years old and not designed to have goofy apprentices mucking about on its fragile bits.

The inevitable happened and the porch roof gave way spilling the plumbers to the ground, which I’m pretty sure were the aforementioned dull thuds. I made it outside and they seemed to be ok; dusty, cowed and winded, but ok. Their boss is here now, and they are clearly in some deep, deep shit for fucking up. Aside from the temporary inconvenience of having our porch looking like a conflict zone we’re not particularly worried about it. Our landlord is nice as is the plumber guy, and it will be fixed shortly I am sure.

I was honestly more worried about the more rotund of the plumbers who appeared to be having a tough time getting air back. They declined all offers of assistance or refreshment, taking instead the tough man route, this is despite having that look on their faces of ‘I just did something very stupid, could conceivably have been killed, and am now in moderate pain and fear the repercussions of my actions’.

The excitement never stops around here.