A puzzle I can't solve

It's pouring outside at least through the translucent lace curtains I can see the wet roads, my bare feet on the carpet surrounded with the warm air of the internal heating system. He's outside. I can see him, I don't think he can see me but I still duck or move away from the window every time I think his glance is shifting in my direction. He is bent over, one foot pushing his entire body's weight against a small rock and the other as an anchor while he uses a mini version of a shovel to loosen up the soil around the wooden planks he salvaged from the discarded bed. His son suggested him not to use the planks ridden with deep engraved nails and left-over foam and tape from the bed still stuck on them and overhearing the conversation, I sensed his affirmation in following his son's advice. Perhaps that's the reason why this is such a surprise to me. I came out of my room hearing the noise of a hammer-like tool emanating from somewhere near my house. My first instinct was to peek outside to see who was crazy enough to be working in the heavily pouring rain, I wasn't expecting it to be him. Soon he was hammering down the wooden planks in place, stating a permanency in their structure-his son will not like this, I don't like this either.

It must have stopped raining because now he had the water pipe in his hand and he was washing clean the road in front of his house. I failed to see the logic of washing a street that has already been washed clean by the rain and will soon enough be going through another rinse of rainfall. I fail to see logic in a lot of the work he does, most of it seems unnecessary. He didn't have to paint the already cleanly painted walls, he didn't have to clean the garage just to move the messy storage to another location in the house, he doesn't have to start cooking when a hot pizza has been ordered for dinner but he did!