My back porch has been a death trap for the last few years, and the insurance people finally said I had to fix it. Big surprise, it had lawsuit written all over. I am highly motivated. I spent the last few days at work planning (of course I left the plans at work) and after work yesterday I was raring to go.
Here's a sort of before pic. I had already dug out a massive lilac from in front of the porch and a euonymus (I have no idea how to spell that) and a spirea from the fence by the window:
Then I ripped the porch off the wall with my bare hands. That wasn't exactly tough and VERY pleasing. (the water barrel is still there because I'm draining 50 gallons of water into the nether regions of my garden. 50 gallons is HEAVY)
This in no way reflects the sweat involved in digging out the lilac (I broke my shovel and had to go buy another one, plus a crow bar that I didn't use - still. Who doesn't need a crow bar?). Or the amount of children's crap I had to clean out of there. And bricks from the driveway reorg.
My backyard is looking pretty Kentucky, eh?Then I went to my friend Jen's who was gracious enough to let me crash her family gathering, ply me with copious quantities of red wine, and let me outstay everyone's bedtime. Sorry, Jen! Get a clock next time and put it where I can see it. Oh yeah, and she also pointed out that tomorrow was a holiday and I cannot replenish the booze supply in my house that ran out yesterday. Talk about bad planning. Good thing I'm going OUT to drink today.
Back to work. I wonder what will give out first - My muscles, my motivation, or my liver?
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