The Song of the Suburbs

I live in a neighborhood that is relatively quiet…until someone decides to go outside.

Then it’s a symphony of “Let me play you the song of my people!”

The instruments?

Pressure washers and leaf blowers.

Holy crow, the pressure washers and the leaf blowers!

And since it’s nice out and sunny and the weekend, everyone must get these things out and use them all. day. long.

And I get to hear every. moment. of. it.

It makes me a bit twitchy after a while.  You know, like three hours of pressure washing.  My one neighbor pressure washed the entire house.  The other neighbor hired someone to spend the weekend pressure washing the roof, deck, deck chairs, side walks, everything.

A whole weekend of “brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr”.

Fun times.

And when they’re not pressure washing everything, they’re leaf blowing pine needles.  Okay, I get that.  I’ve grown to hate pine needles myself and have thought of getting a leaf blower too.  Maybe I could just borrow one from a neighbor, lord knows EVERYONE HAS ONE.

I get the “why” behind it.  This area is very mossy and piney.  Things build up on rooftops, and if you don’t clear the moss and needles, it all clogs your drainpipes and you look like you’ve made a “living roof” (seriously, there’s a house here, you could plant potatoes on their roof, the growth is so thick).  But there should be a designated day.  “First Sunny Saturday of the Month, get out your pressure washers and go!”  Then we can all enjoy the rest of the time with our windows open, maybe actually hear the birds chirping and the kids laughing.

Or we all convert to dug outs, where it’s acceptable to have moss and pine needles.  That could work too, right?

Yes, the sound of the pressure washer is bringing out my inner hippie, I am that over it.