You Again!

 

I made an unfortunate discovery this summer. Apparently, you can't just keep adding stain to your deck year after year and expect it to stick. It needs tough love to make it last. My friend Gaye offered to help, since they own a powerwasher. I'm almost certain I used a garden hose with poor pressure a few years ago, but what did I know?  I though it would take her about 30 minutes. When it went on longer, I checked in. "Isn't this good enough?" I said, pointing at the boards.

She replied like a nursery school teacher conversing with a dim three year old. "Judy, if we don't do it right, you'll just have to do it all over again next summer." With the gentlest tone and a small shake of her head, she got back to it. 

She worked for three and a half hours the first day and three the next. The loose strands of paint disappeared, leaving behind the dull echo of stain from years gone by that would need to be sanded away. She offered to do it, but how far can you let a friend go in the help department without feeling like you're taking advantage?

With my new palm sander and paper, I took over a week to finish the job. I ended up using a belt sander, too, which threw me around like a bull trying to toss a cowboy at the rodeo. Every evening my hands buzzed for an hour, and my back ached like the bull had not just thrown, but trampled me. And yet, I removed every speck of stain before purchasing Thompson water sealer in a cedar colour. 

After following the directions carefully, I ended up with a nicely finished deck the colour of Donald Trump's face. But after all the work that went into it, I'm okay with that.

Once my back unclenched from being stooped over for a week, I planted my garden and began the never ending tasks of weedwhacking, mowing the lawn and potting flowers. There are other tasks that I needed advice about, or required a small amount of help with, but really, I've bothered quite a few handy friends in the past. I don't like to think of them lying on the floor with the lights out and the door locked if they see me approaching their house. 

What we need in town, in the world, really, is a list. Much like the list for organ donors, only this one wouldn't be voluntary. If someone made the mistake of doing too good a job with their house, yard, car, fence, etc, then they would be added to the list. This would be especially beneficial to society if it involved people who broke the law. 

Say a guy worked for the mafia and got caught by the FBI. Or CSIS. After prowling around their property, agents would notice how well kept things were, and the bad guy/girl would make the mistake of saying, 'I'm good at breaking legs but I'm also handy with regular tools.' They would go on the list.

There'd be a second list of people like me who need  help with things. We have questions, like, how do I use this saw? How do I load my nail gun? Can I paint outside with this brand, even though YouTube says no? Of course, we'd all have our favourite handy people. I can just picture them saying, 'You again!' when I call. 'Do you want me to call the RCMP?' I'd reply. (Because yes, these people would have little choice in the matter.) 

It would be a tidier world. Pictures would hang straighter, my sidewalk wouldn't be coated in white paint accidentally spilled while I was attempting to paint my posts out front. I wouldn't have to have a side table in the place where my trim joined up in the living room. I'm not great at diagonal cuts, and unfortunately, I belong to the school of 'Eh! Good enough.' 

So, Justin Trudeau and Pierre Pollievre, stop squabbling and start making a list. All the handy people I know are honest, and I have to stop bothering them. I hope to hear about this new program soon. 

sincerely,

Me