Imagine also how organised I was and conscious of the space in the eaves of the roof that is basically just wooden beams and insulation. I got the torch. I located the suitcase (with the help of the torch). I planned my route across to the suitcase, taking into account the pack of floor boards that are left over from another project.
Now imagine how happy I was that I had made it to the suitcase without incident! Fantastic!
Oh how I wish I had planned my route back from the suitcase to the main part of the loft!
Stepping back onto the pack of laminate floor boards whilst simultaneously yanking the suitcase free of it's tight squeeze between two other suitcases, the laminate shifted under me in what can only be described as a fast paced, backwards skiing motion. I fell sideways into a supporting strut, quite severely banging my head (in the temple) and grazing my left hip bone on it.
Isn't that insulation stuff strong? Or perhaps not enough of me fell into the space in between the beams?
Of course, what added to my teary, grumpy disposition after that was treading on my shoe laces in my haste to get out of the loft (in which the air was steadily turning blue) and falling over in exactly the same fashion against the next strut!
I probably won't be so quick to put the suitcase back in the loft!
All is well again. Just itchy from stray fibre glass insulation. That stuff gets every where.
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