So, definitely making serious patio progress. See?
And I went today and picked up the steps - those bad boys weigh 83 pounds a shot. My car was weeping as the guy loaded them in. I could hear it sobbing. But I got them out without breaking anything important, so all is well.
Why did we need to go buy steps? Because of my new superpower.
Call me Level-Headed Woman.
My neighbors no doubt think I'm insane. (To be fair, they probably already thought that.) But I'm out there, pacing back and forth over everything from newly dug-out dirt to rock to different rock. I can sense a change in the level. Even tiny ones. So what if I look like a deranged model on the loose? I'm Level-Headed Woman!
So, Sunday, it had dried out enough that I could go out there and dig. The dirt wasn't too heavy - not light, but moveable. And I'm leveling the ground so that, once we get the four inches of gravel and inch of sand and two-inch pavers, it will be level with the walkway we've already done.
And I look down to where we'd ripped out the old sidewalk - where we'd already dug out - where we'd already put down the gravel - and I realize that something is very wrong.
"Honey - that's not level."
And I get this lecture on how a little bit of grade is good, as long it drains away from the house ... yada, yada, yada.
"No, it's really not level. Do some math."
This is how our project has gone. I dig; he does math. I shovel; he does more math. Don't get me wrong - the math is important (see above drainage point), but let's just say I'm earning the office furniture I'm going to get with all the money we saved doing this ourselves. (And, to be fair, he's done some digging too. He also moves my full wheelbarrow for me. I hate wheeling my barrow. Hate it!)
So, he runs some lines, does some math, and discovers that - surprise! - it's not level, by a whole five inches. Over 10 feet. That's a whole lot of drop for a 16 by 16 inch paver stone to cover.
So, I ask my boss (an experienced fellow in this department), who, whenever we talk pavers, winds up giving me the "that's one way to do it - not the way I'd do it, but one way," look. And he tells me to do a step, where to get the supplies, and the steps I need to take.
Thus, my project today. Steps.
You know, there is so much more going on right now that just the Project That Wouldn't Die. My toddler is a toddler no more - he turned four on Tuesday. He's now officially a 'kid.' And while I was digging? My hubby made him this:
The kid insisted he eat the wheel first. That was tricky . . .
That's how we roll. Gender roles don't really apply at this house, but that's okay. He bakes a lot better cake than I do. And I level a lot better than he does.
Our seventh wedding anniversary was a few weeks ago. Not itchy at all!
Mother's Day is this weekend; in a week and a half, I'm turning thirty three.
I have reverse writer's block - I have entire chapters, down to the commas, written in my head. And I cannot get my fingers to type the words.
So, as you can see, there is a ton of stuff going on. And all of it is overshadowed by this danged patio.
But it's going to be great when it's done, right, Jake?