Tuesday, June 10, 2008
My new favorite activity (beside making journals) is powerwashing. It's a good thing I don't own one, because nothing would be safe from the machine's watery blast. (I'm actually trying to figure out how to clean my shower with the power washer we borrowed from Barry before he demands it back).
Things you can clean with a powerwasher: sidewalks, decks, siding, window screens, driveways, water features, ant hills, shrubbery, flip flops (take them off first, or you can lose a toe nail). . . the list is endless. I lugged the thing up on our wrap-around porch and blew away all the yucky mess left by the demented robin this spring. His little piles of bird poo were instantly swept off my porch to become one with the rhodies! How cool is that?
Powerwashing has a near-miraculous effect on sidewalks. The pressurized spray of water strips away years of gunk and grime in a single swipe of the wand. It's kind of a religious experience for me--to witness something so stained and soiled become clean again. As I sprayed darkened cement back to its original bright hue yesterday, I wondered if that's how my soul looks to the Father as I come to Him to be forgiven and cleansed of my sins? A cheesy illustration, perhaps, but for my little brain sometimes the simplest object lesson can impart the greatest truth!
I wonder if I could powerwash the dog? Hey Scout, come here . . .