Dad Hasn’t Been Up the Ladder Since
Dad Hasn’t Been Up the Ladder Since
October 2026
That was last spring. Half the plum tree was neat and tidy, the other half was still hanging over the side path, and the ladder was lying on its side on the lawn.
Dad’s seventy-six. He has pruned that plum tree every spring for as long as I can remember, the same way every year: the old aluminium stepladder, his secateurs and his good gloves. He doesn’t like paying someone to do what he can do himself.
I’ll tell this part plainly, because Dad would want it told plainly. The ladder shifted on the soft grass and he came down with it. Mum heard it from the kitchen. He broke his wrist and badly bruised his hip, and he spent four nights in hospital and six weeks in a cast.
He’s fine now. I want to say that first, because he’d be cross with me if I didn’t. He’s back at bowls, he’s back to telling the neighbours how to fix their cars, and you’d never know.
But I won’t forget walking into that ward and seeing my dad look small. Neither will my brother.
The family meeting
When he came home, my brother, Mum and I sat round the kitchen table and made a rule. The ladder doesn’t come out again. Not for the plum, not for the gutters, not for anything.
Dad agreed straight away, which tells you how shaken he was. Mum dragged the ladder over to the side fence that same week, and that’s where it stayed.
Making the rule was easy. Trouble is, trees don’t know about family meetings.
Over summer the plum grew back like it had been waiting for its chance. The lemon tree got leggy. The branches over the side path started catching in Mum’s hair when she took the bins out. And Dad would stand at the kitchen window with his tea and just look at it.
It was getting to him, you could tell. He got short with Mum over little things. He stopped pottering out the back after lunch. For a man who has always fixed his own problems, having one right outside the window that he wasn’t allowed to fix was its own kind of misery.
“I could have that done in an hour,” he’d say. Every week, the same.
I rang around for him. One tree service never rang back. The other could come in March, and the quote made Dad go very quiet. Mum would say, “Not up that ladder you couldn’t,” and that would be the end of the conversation, until the next time.
Looking for a way to keep him on the ground
So I started looking for something he could use without leaving the lawn. I knew pole saws existed, but I didn’t know the first thing about them, and Dad was never going to wrestle with a petrol one again.
Then I found this one. The bit that caught my eye was a line on the product page: you cut high branches with both feet flat on the ground. That was the whole point for us. It was a few weeks before Father’s Day, so my brother and I went halves.
It’s an Extendable 2-in-1 Mini Chainsaw. On its telescopic pole it reaches up to 2.2 metres, so Dad does the high branches standing on the lawn. When he’s done up high, the pole unclips and it’s a small handheld saw for the low stuff. There are no spanners involved, and it starts with the power button, so there’s no cord to pull. See today’s price ↓
The Saturday after Father’s Day
Dad read the instructions twice, front and back, because that’s who he is. He charged the batteries on the Friday night. I came over on the Saturday morning to watch, and, if I’m honest, to supervise.
He put on his good gloves and his hat. He extended the pole, clipped the battery in and stood on the lawn with both feet flat, off to one side of the first branch, rather than underneath it. Then he pressed the button.
The first plum branch came off and dropped onto the grass. He looked over at me with the same face he used to make when I was little and he’d fixed my bike.
By morning tea, the side path was clear and the plum was done. Mum brought out a pot of tea and a plate of Anzacs and said, “Well, look at you.”
Then he unclipped the pole and cut the fallen branches into lengths for the green bin, standing at the old sawhorse at about waist height. He even did the lemon tree before lunch. I didn’t have to say a word.
But mostly I watched Dad. He was whistling. He hadn’t whistled in the garden in a year, and I hadn’t realised I’d missed it until I heard it again.
He keeps it standing by the shed now, where the ladder used to lean. The ladder is still lying by the side fence. Next hard rubbish collection, it’s going out on the nature strip, and I don’t think anyone will be sorry to see it go.
He hasn’t been up the ladder since. He doesn’t need to be.
What Dad uses
- Reaches up to 2.2 m on its 3-section telescopic pole, so you cut high branches with both feet flat on the ground.
- 800W motor. Cuts branches up to 15 cm thick.
- 2-in-1: unclips into a handheld mini chainsaw, no tools needed.
- Starts with the power button. No petrol, no pull cord.
- Two batteries and a fast charger in the kit.
- 30-day money-back guarantee and a 90-day warranty.
Trusted by 20,000+ Aussie Gardeners.
Extendable 2-in-1 Mini Chainsaw Kit + 2 Free Batteries
$360.00 $179.99 SAVE 50%
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Up to 2.2 m reach. Cut high branches with both feet flat on the ground.
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800W power. Cuts branches up to 15 cm thick.
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2-in-1, tool-less setup. Unclips into a handheld saw, no tools needed. 2 batteries and a fast charger in the kit.
Shipped express from our Brisbane warehouse, arrives in 2 to 6 business days
We have a 30-day refund policy. Eligibility and return arrangements are subject to the policy, so review the conditions before ordering.
Based on real customer reviews. Names and details have been changed.