Diary of Lisa Taylor, reluctantly 42 (and a half)

Or.. 'f.ck me I'm forty.. two.. and a half', though can look 38 on a - not so deluded - good day. Or 'How to reconcile a well experienced mind trapped in a still - but for how long? – youthful body.' Don't have the 30somethings angst/problems, neither have the resigned (?) ageing baby-boomers in safe family territory outlook yet. Here's how I cope, one day all sexy women will get old... but never invisible. © Lisa Taylor 2005/6/7/8/9. Jeez.. so much for the 42 and-a-half delusion

Thursday, June 18, 2009

14 June -Power & Jets

My best buy of the year is undoubtedly the super powerful jet wash which although small, packs an incredible punch. It cleans everything and served also to prove that occasionally you still need a man since I was complaining the fact that nothing much was coming out of it (compared to the more expensive and larger model that Ben had lent me previously) and Toph said 'Try switching the power on first'. I hate that.

Happy hours are spent blasting off the paving stones in my front garden and the concrete of the entrance path, all whilst trying to avoid dousing any passers by of which there are many since the theatre for all this action is right by a crossroads and traffic lights. At some point I have to stop because I think I may bring the whole side of the street crashing down since with the dirt I've probably removed some alien type of ancient slime that was glueing together my property.

I love it so much that I want to offer my services to all and sundry in the neighbourhood, keep noticing dirty steps, front entrances etc which could benefit from my new appliance. However am sure would need insurance and all sorts of health and safety to practice on behalf of others and since the jet is so strong it takes paint off if you hold it to same spot too long, I could do some serious damage and then have to pay for it. In fact when an American sounding man approaches to ask me if I work for the management company of the building (since am covered in dirt that has ricocheted against me from my soaked trousers to my baseball cap - yes I have one such item borrowed from a bloke just for this type of work) I'm ready to proffer my charges. Turns out he's locked out and wants to know if I know how entry key pads work. Er. No,I don't. There goes my £50 for an hour's work.

Would however be best to take the Quentin Crips approach of not disturbing any dust or dirt settled. Since once you start.. you notice that the outside of your house by the street is crap, but you can only reach as high as yourself (getting a ladder is not a good idea since well, it isn’t ) and if you were to sponge-wash the outside walls, where do you stop? Just below the windows of the flat above yours? I can see why people want houses so they’re more in control of the entire area but.. .I now seem to get annoyed at dirty pavements nearby. At bins, at rubbish bags left just there. This is not normal. I should not be obsessed by dirt. But then again once I saw in Vietnam, people clearing out vast tracts of rubbish and stuff by the side of their few highways. I was told that they do this civic service kind of thing monthly (coerced of course, not really volunteering) but I'd welcome it here. What's the point of me cleaning around where I live if a few gusts of wind blow next door's shit back my way?



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