Crummy ceiling fan . . .

Today was not a good day to be a ceiling fan.

Today, my wife and I emptied out our attic . . . we have service people coming on Wednesday to apply a radiant barrier in our attic, and add more insulation.

I lowered the attic ladder, and proceeded to climb into the attic, and while standing the ladder, half in the attic, and half out, I lowered the first box to my wife.

As I was handing the box to my wife, I felt the "pow-pow-pow" of the ceiling fan hitting the ring finger on my left hand . . . I realized I had not turned off the ceiling fan before climbing up.

Out of instinct I guess . . . or my old police training . . . or out of a rational desire to never experience the same situation ever again, I pulled the ceiling fan from the ceiling and stomped it into little bitty pieces.

Nah . . . I'm just kidding . . . I did call it some choice names . . . probably hurt its feelings . . . if ceiling fans can have feelings.

Crummy ceiling fan!

I jumped down to make sure my finger wasn't broken . . . and was glad this it only sustained a blood bruise. I put ice on it for 15-20 minutes, and it was good to go.

Guess I will remember to turn off the ceiling fan the next time I go up into the attic, which will be this next Saturday, putting back all the stuff I took down today.

God's grace . . . and my stupidity . . . still amaze me . . . ><>