I know I am doing it but can't stop. It insiduously permeates my fiber of being and has me in a funk for wayyy too long. In short though, the payoff exceeds the cost...to a point.
Yesterday I bucked up and set in place the stone steps. Addison helped which was a saving grace. Hell, moving four four hundred pound steps around is no easy matter and having a nineteen year old punk to help, well, a good thing. Add in the basic use of round pipes and pry bars, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.
Not knowing exactly how to set them had me stuck. Not exactly that though. The angst was more centered around the desire to do it right but not knowing how. Ask ten people, get ten answers. One would think that would help me understand that there is no right way to go about it but no. It figured I asked ten people who didn't really know.
I was a little miffed too about not having experienced guidance. I had an agreement with a local artisan but that fell through. I was excited to work with him, to learn how to work with the stones in a manner that harkens to old ways of doing things. No lifting, simple tools and guides, a result that is proper, appealing, and honors the history of the place.
Ah well, the steps are in. They are functional. They look good.
Now, about those other things I have been leaving for another day....
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