Okay, it’s been long enough. We started the Porch Project in June. It is now September and no porch in sight. Sure, we did have that weekend fishing trip to the coast, but that was a necessity (fishing is always and always will be a necessity). Sure, the Big County Fair came and went one weekend and my husband (being a Fair Director) felt the need to be down at the fairgrounds for four days in a row to do various Fair Director Deeds (not the least of which was picking up food related Carny trash and drinking beer ~ all the while sporting his “Fair Director” lapel pin).
We are only able to work on the Porch Project during weekends due to the fact that he gets home about dark from work, and I (even though I get home a minute or two past 4 p.m.) dare not make a move without his approval. Therefore, the project moves at a snail-with-his-foot-nailed-to-the-floor’s pace.
That’s fine, I knew that going in, but hey. We have nothing to show for all those the grimy sweaty weekends except some new plywood on the old wall (and that’s not even finished yet), some beautiful, fluffy, going-to-save-us-lots-of-money-on-our-utility-bills, pink insulation (that is quickly fading to a sickly yellow) exposed to the elements, and a new front door. Sheesh.
I did have the privilege to dig three holes this weekend. The fourth is yet to come, but three are in and two have concrete in them with j-bolts sticking up to receive the colossal 6 by 6 inch steel square tubing porch posts. They are going to be splendid. They are going to be quite substantial. They are going to be the biggest pains in the butt to stand upright and get square to the house! But I can’t wait to tackle that chore. The hubby has been cutting and grinding and drilling and playing his manly welder games all weekend in preparation for the setting of the posts.
Me? I dug holes in the sun. Well, not really in the Sun so much as in the dry unyielding Earth under the scorching, relentless, scalding, white-hot intensity of the sun’s summertime rays, but it felt like digging on the Sun.
On hole number one I cleverly set up my beach canopy to work under, but the shade soon scooted across the yard and was no longer shading me. I attempted to drag the canopy over a bit to get some relief, but if you have ever tried to move a 10′ by 10′ tent on four 7′ tall legs over very uneven terrain littered with construction tools and debris by yourself, you would understand just what an exercise in futility that is. And when I respectfully requested assistance from His Majesty out in the Man Cave ~ I was refused! Refused!!! Me?! This cannot be! Grrrr. Just because he was totally up to his elbows in welding (and the US Open Tennis Match featuring Serena Williams) didn’t mean he couldn’t drop what he was doing to help his mate! Dang.
I got past that unfair treatment with silent grumbling, and just gave in and dug my beautiful, perfectly one-foot square, 27 inch deep (that’s my depth limit) holes out in the brutal rays of the sun. It was hard work but at one point an unexpected rain cloud drifted overhead and I got happily drenched and cooled off in the most satisfying of ways ~ rained on in Texas.
I have one more hole to dig, and clearance from the G.C. (he has the General Contractor Title and he can have it!), but I’m not too sure I’ll jump right out there and dig it anytime soon. Why should I? The concrete to fill it won’t get poured until this next weekend ( I hope I hope I hope), and I have a few episodes of the BBC’s Top Gear to catch up on. Not to mention a cheap bottle of Chardonnay with my name on it in the fridge.
I’m sure eventually we will relax in new outdoor furniture on the new front porch while watching the fawns frolic in the twilight’s last gleam. Who cares if we have to wear winter coats and wool socks?
© Copyright 2013 Leegay, All rights Reserved. Written For: Truth In Decorating