I spent most of the day Saturday cleaning the deck, slightly bent over, my hand on the pistol grip business end of a pressure washer, blasting away the algae and grime which had ground into the wood over one year’s time. I rise up to stretch my stiffened back at ten minute intervals so I won’t transform myself into a permanent Quasimodo, The Hunchback of Woodview Circle.
There is no easy way out of this tedious, tortuous chore besides dividing the deck into sections and blast it over a stretch of two or three days. If left unclean, the shaded deck becomes a pratfall minefield of Mack Sennett proportions.
The hum of the pressure washer makes listening to music impossible so you’re left dividing your attention between the actual cleaning and your own random thoughts which mainly consist of thinking about where I could possibly store a gas powered, 10,000 psi pressure washer and wonder if this pressure-washer-honker, if bought, would be too powerful and peel back splinters of wood from the top…. talk about a rustic look.
I finally finish and I’m dog tired and my back stays sore and stiff for the next couple of days. Next weekend is the water seal application. Victor Hugo would be proud and we’re safe from broken bone lawsuits for the next couple of years.