阅读一 A job well done
Whirrr. The deafening sound of a power washer echoed in the neighborhood. Earlier, my dad had bought a power washer—and we were finally going to get our deck clean. After years of using a brush, we now had a high-power, high-pressure washer: a little square machine that sprayed out a strong stream of water.
My dad took the first shift, and washed our upper deck. I watched in amazement as the washer simply left clean wood—exactly the color of the paint originally. "Wow, our deck sure got dirty this year," I thought. However, that was exactly why we were cleaning—so that we could have sparkling floors outside once again. The machine hummed along, and I decided to change before I had to start cleaning. I put on some light clothing, since the sun was high in the sky, and a sunhat to protect my face from a sunburn.
I took charge of the lower deck. I could feel the machine vibrating the whole deck, and I nervously started on a corner. It felt as if the whole deck would fall! But after a few minutes and no large cracking sound, I relaxed and let the loud monotonous buzzing send me into a comfortable pattern. Left, right, left, right. Surprisingly, the paint on the lower deck ended up being completely stripped off! It wasn't that big of a loss though, since we were going to repaint the deck anyhow. Left, right, left, right. Soon, I had made a large sized "hole" of unpainted deck.
I looked to my left—sigh. There was still a lot left to go.
The sun shined, and I kept going. Buzz, buzz. Left, right, back, and forth. Slowly, I moved from the top to the bottom, from one end of the deck to the other. With the last bit sprayed clean, I jumped for joy! Finally, it was done. I put away the machine, went inside and sat down on the couch, and admired my work. A beautiful deck, nice and sparkling from all my hard work!
