I did have one near miss. When we were first married, we had a first-floor flat in a Victorian semi-detached in Newport. Anne's family were coming to visit and 15 minutes before they were due, she suddenly found that the front bay window was dirty.

No time to get hold of a ladder, but this was a sash window where you can clean 90% of the outside from the inside. This leaves a small strip at the top of the lower sash. That had to be clean as well, so I got out on the sill and squatted down with my fingers curled under the bottom rail of the top sash.

Now all that was needed was someone to gently lower the bottom sash to within an inch of my fingers, and I would be able to reach the last bit.

Unfortunately, Anne's 19-year-old cousin was in the room, jumped up and brought the sash down very smartly, dislodging my fingers.

I felt myself falling backwards (with a concrete yard below) and held on to the surface of the glass - well I can't think of anything else I could have held.

Fortunately, his reactions were quick and when he saw my horrified (terrified?) face he whipped the sash back up and grabbed my arms.

Back flip diving off a 15 foot board onto concrete wasn't a good idea.

Oh- the rest of the sashes were allowed to remain with a dirty strip!

Phil