Decking

Simmering in the background like a pot of overheated pasta, the deck calls to me like a siren sweetly singing.  Harpies, more like.

Last week I  managed to get a dozen 12′ cedar boards stained and set on stickers in the garage to dry, just waiting for a break in the weather.

It finally stopped raining today, so after my job interview at King County, I raced outside to see how far I could get with the damaged decking. It turns out that it was a blessing in disguise that we have had unrelenting rain since the dawn of the Industrial Revolution.[1] The deck planking is so soggy that I discovered about two dozen more boards that look just fine, but when you press on them with something hard[2], they ooze like a sponge.

Hey!  I know!  Can I just set fire to this thing so we can start over?  Here you see me cursing the weather gods and realizing that I never knew how much my wife hated me until she bought me a “fixer.”

Happily, the sky gradually cleared, and as the afternoon progressed, I got the worst rotted planks replaced with new, freshly stained cedar.  Now we can use the grill without wearing a roofer’s safety harness!

Time for an extra long Long Island Iced Tea.


[1] So I exaggerate now and then.  Sue me.
[2] Like an axe.  Or a sledgehammer.

 


 

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