My brother-in-law, the Gallo Negro, Dad and I powerwashed the patio a couple weeks ago. I was going to post pictures of the process and before/afters. However, we had rain for days so the dang thing never dried up enough to see the difference. Now I’ve got proof: Power washers ROCK.

It began, innocently enough, when Dad pulled a couple of things out of the shed, one of them being the power washer that my nephew, Keg, lent to Dad. I was drawn to it like a moth to the flame, I could clean with POWER!!! So, I decided to set it up, clear the patio of stuff and wash it.

Except that I couldn’t make it work. At first I thought “surely this can’t be power washing. I could scrub better with a toothbrush.” I had it hooked up properly, I knew that, but just couldn’t get the power thing going.

So, Dad called Keg who ran over and fiddled with the power cord, then suddenly I HAD POWER!!!!! (insert mad laughter here)

Here is the Patio before

See how it’s yucky looking? It’s got 40 years of muck.

This is the power washer up close and personal:

I started the process, then I had to stop to go see RiotGrrrl’s achievement celebration. (Which rocked.)

Here is the Gallo Negro at work:

and here. If you look closely you can see the muckety build up of goo where the patio meets the flower bed. Euw.

Now, here is a picture I took this afternoon, see the loveliness of a clean patio?

Just a note: My Dad was out there cleaning in his basic Dad uniform. Shorts, white socks pulled up midcalf, white t-shirt and slippers. I was tempted to photograph him, but decided that I would do it a different time. He was a lovely sight.

Extra note: Gallo Negro is my Brother-in-law’s nickname.  Sometimes it’s also Gallo Frito.  But that’s personal.