Prep’n the Patio

 

 

 

Once a young Farmer myself, I remember one of our summertime chores - besides scrapping moss off the rooftop shingles with a putty knife which there is not way in Hades will my children be doing - was pressuring washing the algae-clad patio.  “Grandma and Grandpa M have a lot of patio,”  I told my hydro-help.  I could tell he wasn’t listening to me as I delved further down the snowy road of  ‘when I was a kid’ lectures. 

 

“You’re Grandma’s feet would get so sunburned.  Your aunts and I would write things in the cement and we would spray each other with the water jet.  It would hurt if you accidently got your feet, stings really bad….”

 

Today’s adventure was in preparation for a Father’s Day BBQ we’re hosting Sunday afternoon.  Devin fixed the grill and put together paper lanterns.  D.J. and I swept what the fall and winter winds had blown in and washed the whole thing down.   Little instruction was needed; he was a natural.

 

Breaking up stuck-on, dried up dirt clods,  maneuvering the mud flow around the BBQ and the flower pots.  It was wonderful.  Not a single compliant.  And then I saw this and realized why he was such a “natural”.