Gorgeous

Here are a couple of shots of the steps with the wood in place.  It's a little muddy still.

I was so pleased when I got home and saw it that I called Vic and said, "Do you know how great it is to come home after you have worked all day at my house?" I was beaming. He had done a beautiful job.  He even played with the wood colors to give it a little design.  He said he estimates he has about a half day's work remaining and that he would see me in the morning.

Then he said, "I made a mistake, did you notice it?"  I hadn't.  He said that he would show it to me in the morning and that we could decide how to fix it.  Okie doke.  When I hung up I went outside and looked for the mistake, but I couldn't find it. 

When he arrived this morning he pointed out how on the edge of the large landing, on the edge that leads to the step below, the wood is supposed to overhang the edge by 3/4".  He says it's a safety thing.

Hmm.  Well, now that he's pointed it out, okay, sure I can see it.  And looking at all the other steps where he did make it hang over -- yes, the hanging over ones do look better.  Are they safer?  I have no idea.
 
There are two possibilities to fix it: 
 
One, he can put in a ripped board that is about 1" wide and drop it between the boards and bump that edge out.  The problem with that is that that 1" board would be the only 1" board, and it would probably be fairly noticeable.  I inquired about putting one or two additional 1" boards in elsewhere, to give it some continuity, and I can't remember the reason why, but he said that wouldn't work. 
 
The other solution is to put in a new full width board.  The problem with that?  We don't have any 10' boards left, only 8' boards -- so it would have to be pieced -- 8' and then a 2' piece.  That would really catch your eye.  My solution to that?  Go to the lumberyard and buy one more 10' plank.  The problem with that?  There's no way a 10' board will fit in my car!  The answer to that?  Drop the convertible top, and put on my Carhartt jacket and a scarf.  (It was 43 degrees this morning.)  Sure, I got some funny looks at red lights, but it wasn't nearly as cold as I'd expected it to be. 
 
Other related updates...
 
Re: the hole in the ground, Vic can't get under those last 2 steps to affix the boards from below, so I'll have to dig out and crawl under there to do those.
 
Re: the touch up paint to touch up the new welds from installation?  Mark called this morning and is sending a crew member out to seal up the bottom of the stringer had to be cut off (don't try to follow, I left that part of the story out) and to paint the welds.  He'll be there today at 2.
 
With regard to the giant green forklift parked at my front curb that was supposed to be picked up yesterday, and was supposed to be picked up "first thing this morning," they really truly promise it will be gone by 3 today.
 
Regarding the gutter we had to remove to get the steps in place?  My gutter company referred me to a company called Handy Dan who is going to be at my house at 8 a.m. Monday morning.  They estimate a less than 2 hour repair, at a reasonable hourly rate.
 
So, things are coming along.  For some reason, though, I feel very out of control.  All of the floors in my house are muddy.  Even my dog is muddy.  Outside, aside from my backyard being muddy, my driveway, with the corresponding edge of my neighbors lawn, is muddy and sort of torn up.  My carport is positively trashed with items that had to be moved to make way for construction.  One of my rain barrels is leaking at the hose connection, adding to the mud.  I'm a little wild eyed.
 
On the way to work, I stopped for an egg biscuit -- it was 10:15 and I was ravenous -- and when I stopped a block away from the drive through to wolf it down, I unwrapped ... a biscuit.  No egg.  Just a biscuit.
 
At 10:30 when I got to work, I was met with complaints from several counsel that our fax machine is down.
 
When my boss noticed I was sort of quiet and asked if I was down today, I started crying.  Fortunately for both of us, we were on the phone, and he wasn't standing in front of my desk -- in my experience few things affect men the way a woman crying does.  He gave me a wide berth.
 
Now, it's 12:30.  Rationally I know I really have nothing to be wild-eyed about it.  Hiccups are always a part of projects.  And I've got it really good -- in so many ways my life could be so much worse.  But for now?  Tired.  Teary.  Really needing the rollercoaster ride to be over.  Really wanting a few hours to knock out some clean up and get my haven reorganized.   The solution to that?  My boss just left for the day, and advised me to go home, and take care of business.  Like I said:  I've got it really good.

The Power of Positive Thinking

A couple of really huge good things happened this week:  My steps were installed, and today Vic will complete nearly all of the ipe installation.  I would do well to write those two things on the back of my hand with an ink pen.  I'd been planning them since May 2010, and they are in.  And for the most part, they look positively fantastic.

This week has also been an emotional rollercoaster.  On installation day, the nervousness and anxiety about things coming together and going smoothly combined with the excitement of it actually finally happening had me on the verge of tears all day long.

I was worried about what would be right:

Would...

... the forklift fit down my driveway? (yes)
... the footings be correctly placed? (yes, they were)

... the structure fit under my gutters and eaves? (it did not fit, and an inch was cut off the legs)
... the 2 steel pieces fitting together (with some adjustments, they did fit)
... the work be completed without damaging surroundings?  (aside from some slate cracking, yes.)
... I still like the design after all these months? (YES)

I cry easily.  I'll get teary when I am really excited about something, like when I got to swim with dolphins in Mexico.  I fight back tears during every opening and closing argument we do in trial.  Happiness, stress, being overtired, being really angry -- they all make me cry.  I don't necessarily view that as a bad thing --generally I can have good cry for 60 seconds and I feel infinitely better than before.  It's a great release.  But riding the crest of being on the verge of tears for 12 hours?  Hoo-ee, that is exhausting.  When I saw Red that evening I couldn't recall conversations we'd had just an hour prior.  I finally confessed that I was so wrung out that I felt as though I had just gotten out of trial.  That's just weird.  But it's me.

Until mid-way through the installation I had forgotten about the many conversations that had gone on with regard to where the bottom steps would land (no pun intended) with respect to the grade of my yard.  And when they were put in place?  The bottom step and the handrail stringers are two feet below grade.

No it isn't optimal.  Agreed.  Do I wish that hadn't happened?  Of course.  But it did, and so the best thing I can do is focus on how it can be remedied.  But before I can do that, my mind needs to rest, and absorb the huge, wonderful transformation that has happened already.  And in time, I'll work out a solution.

I didn't sleep well the night after installation.  I was positive I would have a great evening with Red and just collapse into a coma.  Great evening?  Check.  Great sleep?  Not so much.  And so on the heels of all of that, Vic arrives Thursday morning.  Although weary, I thought I was in a pretty good mood.  The first thing Vic says to me?  Not hello, but "What happened to your hair?"  Determined not to let that derail my morning I laughed it off and we walked to the backyard.  He laid eyes on the stairs descending into the earth, and I waited -- and he did not disappoint:  "Ahhh!  I TOLD YOU that was going to happen!"  Yes, I know.  I gave him the credit due and told him I would figure something out.  As predicted, he had strong opinions of how it should be remedied.  I listened, thanked him for his opinion, and said I needed to let the scenario gel in my mind for a few days.  I do not have to come to a final solution today.  But he kept on.  And finally I had to just tell him to stop.  Multiple times.  Perhaps I had to raise my voice a bit.  I get it.  I do.  And I will deal with it.  So -- let's focus on this beautiful lumber that is going to go on these beautiful stairs.

I won't torture myself or you with the details of what transpired in the next couple of hours.  I had showered, gotten mostly ready for work.  It was raining.   My yard was very muddy.  And although I was not dressed for it, I was outdoors with Vic.  And next I knew, I was in the aisle of Home Depot surrounded by a vertitable posse of Home Depot employees, mud between my toes, with my back arched, my head thrown back and wailing.  (Inside.  I was wailing inside -- not outloud.)  Would this never be over?  OHMYGOSH.  Seriously, I had no work awaiting me at work, but I could not wait to get there.

The Morning After

This morning the forklift sits at the front curb; the workhorse silent.  Stepping into my backyard today was like returning to the scene of the crime, and now it's super muddy because it's been raining for 12 hours.

I have an "aftermath" post to author, but I am still decompressing from yesterday.  I know -- melodramatic. 

Vic is at my house today, cutting lumber and laying it in place.  If the rain stops, he may start affixing it. 

The steps do look pheneomenal.  James and his crew are one class act.

Coming along nicely...

2 p.m.