Our story so far: We were in the midst of the heavy lifting—it was all things stone—for the old Methodist church we were turning into a residence.
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The footings had been poured. Untold loads of gravel hauled in. The steps formed.
After a couple of rain delays, it was time to pour the foundation for the garage.
Tyler was so excited that day, he got up even earlier than normal. He couldn’t wait for me to provide breakfast. He left before I got out of bed and pressed McDonald’s into service.
Tyler had ordered 6-1/2 bag mix concrete, the importance of which, like nuances of 5/8-inch drywall versus half-inch drywall, escaped me. The higher the number of cement bags added to the mix, the stronger it is and the better it performs when exposed to freeze-thaw cycles, as our garage would be on the north side of a southern Wisconsin house. Something about how the finishers finished the edges of the concrete also pleased Tyler.
All I knew was that it looked mighty smooth and flat when the day was done, which is all you can ask for in a good floor.
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Tuesday: Chapter 24 concludes with a few chips off the old block. Read it here.