A few hours after I got done pressure washing, it hits me… I got Tom Sawyered!
So, I don’t know when the cement pad out back last got pressure-washed. Pretty sure it was before my time, and I’ve been here about 5.5 years.
Between a succession of pop-up pools, trees dropping stuff, chicken traffic, dogs doing that weird scooting thing where they wipe their butts (oh come on now, your dogs don’t do that?)… well, it was in need.
My sweetie borrowed a pressure washer from a friend. He mentioned it in passing a couple of days ago, said we needed to do it before setting the pool up for the summer. I didn’t give it a second thought.
Then he fired that baby UP.
I was just tying up some loose ends for work, and it sounded like any other “outside work” tool to me, so I tuned it out.
Until I got to a stopping place, anyway. Even as I went outside to see what he was up to, I had no idea I was about to be sucked into a pastime possibly even more addictive than Tetris. (By the way, I can NOT start playing Tetris or anything remotely similar. Not unless I want to become one with the Borg (again), like forevvvvvvvvver.)
My “can I try?” led ultimately to a couple of hours of zen that can only be compared to PicMonkey editing… you know, with the eraser thingy when you’re trying to make a transparent background? Except there’s no undo button.
My back started to ache.
I made art. Sorta.
Aw, come on! You can tell what it is, right?
Obviously, it’s a peacock! Sheesh.
Eventually, the dogs each came out to check on me.
The chickens even seemed perplexed.
It even started to thunder a little.
But I wasn’t done until it was done!
He offered – a couple of times – to take over, but I wasn’t having it!
Part of my brain was thinking about how if the Internet ever went away, and there was no market for my writing services… maybe I’d just open a pressure washing business. Dude, I’d even go up and pressure wash tall buildings! As long as there’s a safety harness, what could POSSIBLY go wrong?
Another part of my brain started weighing the wisdom of buying one of our own, which may just have to happen.