For the last couple of years, Sara has been pestering me about re-doing our driveway. It was a gravel driveway when we bought the house, and slowly has succumbed to the elements... by mid summer this year, looking for a piece of gravel in the driveway was like searching for fishing bait. By last Monday, weeds had completely taken over and I'm pretty sure I saw a palm viper hiding in there, and I was forced to admit it had gotten a bit out of hand.
So I took some measurements, calculated, screwed it up, called a stone place and had them calculate it, and bought 15,000 pounds of stone. Really. 15,000 pounds. Just for a little perspective, that's the same weight as say.... 15,000 things that weigh about a pound. Seriously, think about it. The deal is, there is a big truck that backs into your crappy driveway, tilts up it's huge bed, and pulls forward so it spills the stone over the length of your driveway. As luck would have it, my phone and cable companies decided to run the wires into my house at just above waist level, so the truck backed into my driveway, lifted the bed and pulled forward about four feet, and stopped to avoid ripping down any wires.
So all in all, two lessons were taken away from this experience - 1. it takes about 4 hours for me to shovel somewhere around 5,000 pounds of stone into a new spot, and then give up and decide to finish on another day... and 2. if you shovel stone for long enough, even your ass starts to hurt. I hardly even remember moving my ass, and it hurts. Odd.
To top off the weekend, we're taking the kids and my sore ass camping for the first time... which is one of those things in life that has no grey area - it'll either be loads of fun, or spectacularly disastrous... I'll let you know....
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