She's my new little friend.
She's a beautiful, red, strong pressure washer and I love her being my friend.
Patty and I go way back. You see, when I was dating Jim, back when I really should have been making the effort to impress him and his family, I met Patty and we clicked immediately. Patty was brought out of the dusty barn, given some go-go juice and was ready to tackle the back patio at Jim's parent's house. I don't believe I had ever run a pressure washer before, but it looked like fun and they let me start cleaning. (I'm pretty sure this was one of the times when my in-laws realized I wasn't going to be the typical girl.)
The patio was not concrete. It was brick with dirt in all the grooves. So, big deal, you say? Well, pressure washers have a tendency to make dirt fly. Dirt that's attached to bricks and also dirt that's in between all the bricks. Let's just say I needed safety goggles to protect my eyes from the spray and by the time I was done, I looked like I had stood behind a truck spinning out in the mud. It made enough of an impression on my in-laws, they took pictures. Who knows, maybe to build their case to Jim about never bringing me back. :)
Needless to say, I get a kick out of the pressure washing we do around the house and Jim knows that all he has to do is watch the kids and I'm busy for hours. Curbs look like they've been painted white by the time I'm done. The yucky, old paint on the driveway has felt the wrath of Kelle with some strong water heading it's way. Any grime that's collected on the side of the house doesn't stand a chance. It's design requires holding it like a machine gun so Jim has nicknamed me Rambo-ette when I start cleaning with it.
It's so bad, I get itchy to start cleaning other people's sidewalks that show years and years worth of grimy build up. Like the nun who lives down the street. Her sidewalk was hideous. I was soooo tempted to roll Patty down there, knock on the nun's front door, and offer to clean her sidewalk in the name of the Lord. No cost. Just as a community service. Jim would have thought I'd completely lost it, though. So I didn't. The nun must have been feeling my pressure washing vibes because she got her little plug-in pressure washer out and started cleaning the sidewalk herself within a month or so. It was a dirty sidewalk, almost black, and I was a little sad I didn't get to clean it for her.
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