The Mason

The day after Stumpy's mauling I decided to work in the front yard so that I could continue to scold and intimidate that naughty long tailed lizard. 

Since we've been having a few "sink holes" in our pavers AND I think that I am fully credentialed by proxy because my paternal grandfather was almost a "mason"...it's time to dig in!  Literally!  

In this picture you can see two low spots:  one is almost dead center with a dark outline around the far side of the facing brick, the other is nearer to the camera lens by about ten bricks and also has a dark outline. 

During Spring Break, I removed, reseated, and replaced the pavers we have around the steps and our plants.  Under our stairs we think that we may have an armadillo who has been digging up the earth and causing our final step to become uneven. 

At that time, I crawled under the stairs and assessed the situation. The boards of our porch were replaced with composite wood material around eight years ago. Our carpenter suggested that we have the stringers repaired and/or replaced. I think that I told him that I wanted it done right and to do whatever was necessary to correct any errors the original builder had made. I guess not. 

(The previous owners of our house HATED the builders and although they loved the house, they chose to move out after only two years due to their disdain.  And they moved to a house only two streets away.)

Anyway, the original builder was a kook and the composite wood man was a kook too. Once I got under the stairs and swallowed my fear of spiders, snakes, and rabid armadillo...I dug out the bricks, soil, and debris until I got down to the footer/header. (What's the difference anyway?)  The header was set about eight or more inches under the bricks and the stringers were not attached to it. And furthermore, the header wasn't secured to the ground in any way.  (I would have thought it might have been cemented in and at least nailed together.)

So, I removed all of the bricks and laid five 40 lbs bags of ready mix cement. Then, I placed sand over that and set the pavers back, leveling it all and forcing fine grain sand between the chinks.

Of course, this was contagious!  After a day or so of admiring my excellence, I decided to move on to tidy up the "planters".   The plants needed weeding, pruning, and the bricks were sinking/raising because of the plants' roots. So, I fixed all of that. I widened the squares where the palms were growing and then I used old newspaper and magazines as a weed block before laying about eight bags of rubber mulch over it. Ta da!  

Four months later...still lookin' good!  (See below)

So, like I said, "I'm totally credentialed, licensed, bonded, and insured. Trust me. I totally know what I'm doing.  This is like... easy."

Moving on to this job...

Using my handy dandy finger tips, I tried to pry up one of the bricks. Nope. Ok. Next. 

I used my handy dandy rainbow/tie dyed trowel as a lever. Nope. Not even a slight budge, but the tip of my shovel was bent about 90 degrees in the wrong direction. 

So, I dug deeper into my stash of tools until I came upon a set of Chicago Cutlery kitchen shears. They unlock and can be used as a flat head screwdriver, a can opener, and the like. Handy!  But not sturdy enough. I snapped off the tip of each blade and bent the can opener . 

Eventually, I got out a proper shovel, stabbed it into the weak spot between the higher and lower bricks, and used that as a fulcrum to remove ONE blasted brick!

One leads to two and two leads to three, and about fifty bricks later, I had removed all of the shoddy work between the sunken spots.  

(Note the excellent traffic cone!  I love me some day glow conage and I need to act like a pro. If an actual paid mason was here, he/she would use a cone, right?!)

I went to Home Depot and purchased much needed supplies:  Step One and Step Two. (I billed this and my travel expenses to the customer.)

Using my fingertips and 43 years of sand castle building skills, I expertly filled, packed, and leveled the sand. Then, I whacked each brick with my hand-me-down (via maternal grandfather this time) rubber mallet. After about a million precisely hammered strokes, the sink holes were "fixed". 

Break time!  Broken can opener?  No problem. Simply place the edge of the cap against the lid of the garbage can and hit it with your palm. Ta da!  Damn, I'm good. 

After spreading fine sand around and sweeping it all in, I triumphantly threw my mallet into the air and addressed my fans...Shawn and my neighbor - who accidently happened to drive by at just the right time. Ah!  I'm a woman. Here me roar. I can bring home the bacon...fry it up in a pan. 

Then, I whipped up a darling little brown necklace and hosted a sleepover for my daughter. 

I'm Mrs. Fix-it. And it's just that simple.