The next time my neighbor came out of his house, I thought, I was going to tell him how much fun I was having, and did he want to give it a shot?
|Getting ready to pressure wash my picket fence. Oh, boy...|
So TJ (or Teej, as he prefers) let me borrow his pressure washer with the only stipulation being that I return it with a full tank of gas.
The thing is, I actually enjoyed pressure washing my fence – for about 10 minutes. Sure, there is a sense of exhilaration and satisfaction when the dirt is washed away under 2700 pounds of pressure per square inch right before your eyes.
|The fence after its cleaning. Maybe I'll just keep the distressed look...|
But it's also like work. Teej warned me that this would happen.
It wasn't long before my lower back started aching. And the initial exhilaration was replaced by tedium.
Plus, I was getting soaked.
I also found myself getting distracted. After washing 10 or 12 pickets, I'd see a garden paver, or a section of my driveway, that called out to me. So I'd pressure wash it until I yelled at myself for wasting gas washing something that wasn't important. Then I'd go back to doing 10 or 12 more pickets before I got distracted again.
Is that what adult-deficit hyperactivity disorder is? I don't know. Great. Something else for me to worry about.
Anyway, I did this for about two hours on Thursday and almost three hours on Friday, and I'm less than halfway done. I figure there's about another five or six hours of work ahead, and then, as long as I can keep gas in it, maybe I can clean off my patio or sidewalks before I return Teej's pressure washer.
The next step is sanding off the pickets to clear off any loose hanging chads of stubborn paint (my first neighbor, Billy, has offered me his electric sander, with the only stipulation that I have a loooooong extension cord. What a neighborhood.) and then the actual painting can begin.
I can't tell you enough how much fun I'm having. Anyone want to give it a try?