So I was mowing the front yard when a man in a pickup stopped and came up to me and offered to pressure-wash the house.
I directed him to my husband, who makes the upkeep decisions (left to me, the house would not have been painted in the 36 years we've lived in it).
Jim agreed the house needed it (he confided later he'd been dreading having to wash all the windows, which involves getting up on a ladder, which I DO NOT want him doing).
The house looks great, as the guy not only removed all the spider webs hanging off the shutters, but the dried ivy clinging to the bricks, and the green mold on the deck. And the price was right.
"I can cut that limb hanging down from that tree," he offered.
The limb, a souvenir of a wind storm, had been hanging like a widow-maker for a couple of years. We agreed on a price.
I went back to mowing. When I took a break, Jim had hired the guy to remove another tree, which was in a serious state of decay and threatening to fall on the house. He not only cut the tree down, he cut all the wood in fireplace lengths and stacked it neatly on the side of the yard.
After hacking off some other dead limbs and hauling them to the curb, he had one more offer to make. He had seen me struggling to start our lawnmower and sold us a new one.
When he finally left, after we promised to call him when we were ready to paint the trim, I turned to Jim and said, "Now THERE is a real pro! He saw a need, convinced us he was the one to fill it, and did a great job at a reasonable price."
I think I will hire him to market my books.