Tub Foundation
Today was a day of back breaking work. We carried all eight cement bags down to the cabin, put up posts to survey and align the piers, dug holes for all six posts,
carried gravel up from the river in wheelbarrows, mixed cement with river water to pour into the holes,
aligned the piers on the cement pads and carried down a whole lot of wood (all of it except the plywood).
Earlier in the day the wood delivery went perfectly, except for the driver of the delivery truck accidentally ripping the shifter lever off of his truck
at the end of the day we washed off in the river and my parents took us out for dinner at the Monte Vista Inn. I hadn't been to the Monte Vista Inn in quite a while and was pretty disappointed by how rude and useless the waitress was. My dad asked for his hamburger medium rare, to which she replied "Well, I'll ask the chef, but the best I can do is ask ; that's all I can do". That would be a fair response in a greasy spoon or your local redneck barbecue, but not when you're paying $10 for a burger. Seriously, walk through those fake "Wild West" swinging saloon doors to the kitchen, explain to Cletus what "Well done", "Rare" and "Medium Rare" mean in monosyllabic words with accompanying hand gestures, and next time you'll look a little less like the dull witted yokel that you are.
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