It’s that time of year again. I’m not talking about the occasional view of the yellow, burning orb in the sky. Nor the lack of wet stuff falling. It’s power washing season in the suburbs. This is a habit I haven’t witnessed before. Come April and May the soothing sounds of air-pressure driven power washers fill the neighborhood.
One neighbor will soon have no fence left if he continues to aggressively power-wash it.
Sidewalks, driveways, fences, houses, children (for all I know) seem to get power washed in Oregon.
I understand they are battling the moss that grows on any exposed surface up here in the land of rain and no shine ( including some people’s heads, but that’s another story more suited to a posting about fungus) but I have to think they are taking it a bit too far when they power-wash away the last remaining bits of concrete – from the concrete.
I did a cartoon about this back when I had more time in my day. As in time to just draw cartoons for the heck of it. It still rings true.