(Side)Walk This Way

When we moved into the House on the Corner we backed the moving truck right up between the two trees next to the street, over the curb, across the front sidewalk, through this grassy strip and up to the front porch. At that point the trees were tiny saplings, and Boy#1 was a pre-toddler.

Fast-forward a quarter century and the trees' canopies have grown together, Boy#1 (and his three brothers) have learned to walk, and the sidewalk has deteriorated into a cracked mess. In fact, for the past half a dozen years or so every time Husband's mother has visited our house she has complained about the uneven sidewalks and wondered why the city didn't just replace them, and Husband has patiently explained that the city doesn't replace sidewalks, that it's the homeowner's responsibility and that this is an expensive proposition, and hello, FOUR BOYS IN COLLEGE, etc.

But this summer the sad state of the sidewalks reached Code Red, and today the sidewalk repair guys pulled up with their equipment.

They are frighteningly efficient. Those landscaping timbers that we spent hot summer weeks pounding into the lawn edges, then reinforcing with Rebar so that they wouldn't float away when it rained? Gone in five minutes. Those two sections that Husband tried to patch with KwikCrete? Popped out in less time than it had taken him to get the bags open during the repair job.

(There is a metaphor in here somewhere about difficult jobs being easy when the proper equipment is used, but I can't seem to tease it out, so please figure that out on your own.)

Anyway, tomorrow the contractor will be back with the big truck and pour the cement.

Do you have any idea how exciting this would have been 20 years ago when four little Boys would have been watching the process through the front window?

I need to borrow some grandchildren.