Raining from Above and Below on the Homeless

It was a cloudy Sunday that threatened to drop rain all day. That seemed as good a day as any to do some Power Washing on the deck. I mean, if I'm going to get wet, I might as well really go for it. I started about 11:00 and I finished up at 4:00. You would think I could do it faster than that considering how most of the paint was hanging on by a single paint molecule. But some of it was rather stubborn. Plus, I stopped a lot to have a refreshing sip of beer or tell homeless people they could rake my yard. By the time I was finished, I was soaked and covered in white flecks of former paint. As time passed after I finished, I realized how sore I was too. It's hard to hold that wand for all that time.

Anyway, it all worked out beautifully as referenced by the picture below.

Clearly, I still have some scraping to do, followed by sanding, re-scaping, more sanding and then some painting. I also have a nasty rotten spot on one board. You can see it in that dark spot at the top of the second board. I'm hoping there is an easy way to replace it. I have a couple of ideas but I don't know how it will effect the structural integrity of...well...everything.

Back to Homeless People.

At one point, I took a break. I grabbed a beer and walked across the street to the park to sit on the Hyslop Bench and take in the neighborhood. As I crossed the street, I noticed a bicyclist turn the corner at the end of the block and slowly ride up the street towards me. She was riding slowly and looking the houses over pretty closely, as if casing them.

I continued out to the park, sat on the bench, keeping a surrepticious eye on her when she stopped in front on the house and went up to the door. Since Susan was gone with her sister and I was across the street, I had little doubt that anyone would be opening the door.

But I decided to see what was going on and started walking over. As I approached I realized that she was a He. Long curly hair cascaded around his spacey stare.

I said, "Hi, I live here. Can I help you?" A fatal mistake. It turns out that I could help him.

His name was Brian and he began to tell me his hard luck tale of Woe. He needed some money to hold him over for a couple of days and wondered if he could do some yardwork for me. While I was impressed with his initiative, it was at that point that I realized he was riding down the street, looking at houses, stopping only when he came to a place that looked like it needed some yardwork done.

In my defense, all I can say is that this is not the Year of the Yard. We have lots of work to do out there, but for now, I keep it watered, mowed, raked and free of dandilions. Beyond that, the Yard is the Yard.

I told Brian that I would pay him $20.00 to rake out the beds and pull the weeds in front of the house. I figured that was fair for a couple of hours of work that I didn't really need done.

I got out the tools he needed and then I went back to work on the power washing. I had been working for about 45 minutes when Brian appeared. I climbed down from the ladder and he told me he was feeling kind of queasy and needed to quit. He seemed earnest and really wanted to return to finish the job the next day. I gave him $10.00 and told him he would get the rest when he finished.

I kind of doubt I'll see him again but he did get everything raked up into little piles. He even got a couple of the little piles into the garbage can before the queasiness kicked in. Perhaps he is allergic to work.

We shall see what developes from this.