Concrete Pour!

Phil was up early. He finished tying in the second level of rebar, got the vibrator and extension cords ready, cleaned up the site, and had just finished when the concrete pump truck arrived around 11am.

We had hoped the concrete pump truck would be able to access the site. Otherwise, we'd need extra helpers, and lots of wheelbarrows. It would require extra mess and extra labor and extra time. So we were so thankful when the pump truck said we were a go.

Phil called the concrete trucks that had been waiting on will call. While they spent the next hour driving down, the pump truck got ready. It was unbelievable.

First, four support arms extended out. Next, the arm unfolded and stood upright. Magnificent.

It rotated on its turntable (which Jadon had noticed and predicted). Then it stretched out as a large M in the sky. (Phil is in the background, a tiny little toy figure compared with the M.)

The M rotated, and started unfolding even more. The photos don't give an adequate perspective on just how high into the air the pump truck extended, but it was incredible. A pterodactyl looming over the building site.

And then the chute made its upside down U.

The men chatted while they waited, ready to beat the clock: hardening concrete against Phil, neighbor, and pump truck.

The first concrete truck arrived, spinning. The driver hit the ground running, the fastest moving construction worker I've ever seen. The puppies came up, sniffing around, so I walked them back down and found a single tie. I tied up Socks, and figured Shadow would stick close.

That minute or two down the driveway was enough for the work to be well underway. Concrete poured out of the pump truck tube, filling the trench. It was amazing to see: it flowed so easily along the bottom of the trench, and then gradually filled up, almost to the surface.

The pump truck driver managed the chute with a yellow box hung around his neck, a huge remote. One of the two men (Phil or our neighbor) would guide the concrete along, with the driver offering some helpful tips: "It's settling over here! Move it back this way!" Guiding the concrete pour was a full-time job.

The man not guiding the concrete had to scramble. One of the tasks was to stick the vibrator into the concrete as it poured into the form work. It vibrated out bubbles in the concrete, making a more stable end product. Also, that man had to take a piece of wood and run along the top of the form work to ensure it was all level.

Isaiah helped a bit smoothing the surface, too.

The first truck finished dumping, and only one side was done, one of the 40' sides. There was some concrete running into the two adjacent sides (semi-liquid, the concrete flowed), but we were concerned: two 50' sides, and a 40' side all left, and only two more trucks coming. If it were me, I would have ordered another truck or two.

While the first truck was rinsing its chute, the second truck showed up. Phil was still trying to smooth the first side, and it was time to pour again.

Incredibly, this truck finished a 50' side and half the next 40' side. How could that be? Maybe we would have concrete enough after all.

I was standing, admiring the beautiful, level job the men were doing, so smooth and perfect. Suddenly I focused on Isaiah. I called to him, asking, "Are you wearing your church clothes yet?"

He paused, then said, "Can we talk about that later?" (Which I still find absolutely hysterical.)

During this exchange, Bitsy had shown up, unnoticed. She headed over to Isaiah. I watched her step on the beautiful, sidewalk-like concrete. Wait! That's not hard yet! "Bitsy!"

I think I slowed her down, since her front leg sank in only over her foot, while her back legs sank in to her flanks. She was surprised. I was mortified: this perfect, smoothed corner, now ruined.

While I took her down to rinse her off thoroughly, Phil and company repaired the damage. Bitsy was mortified. I don't think she would have come up again, but just in case, I tied her up. Shadow, too. No more dog disturbances.

Then I got Isaiah a different shirt.

The third truck came before the second was half done. Then the final push came. Would there be enough concrete? Or would we need another load after all?

And we didn't need another load! How wonderful that Phil trusted in his calculations and wasn't swayed by how it looked after one truckload!

One of the things I was most grateful for was how little extra poured over on either side. Compared with the potential mess from innumerable wheelbarrow loads, the little bit of overflow seemed extremely manageable. The worst spill came just a few feet from the end: there was a little dip, and in trying to move back to fill it, the concrete overflowed.

After that, there was even a bit extra, and Phil had the pump truck man put it on the ground of the building. That was a good idea, but the implementation was my one little disappointment for today. Phil realized later that he should have had the concrete guy mix it with all the water he had left, to dilute it, so it would have been very thin as it came out, easy to break down into gravel and sand. Barring that, I should have gone to shovel the concrete around into a thin layer. As it was, I waited until the workers had all left, and it had set by then, in little globs here and there.

Phil managed to get the extra concrete scraped off the form work. He said later that at least two of the concrete truck drivers had said, "That's beautiful form work!" They commented on not only the wood but the rebar, too. Apparently, many people don't put up enough support, and the concrete breaks through the forms and makes a big mess. For a first attempt at concrete pouring, to have compliments from people who do it every day was quite gratifying.

Isaiah put all our initials (first and last) into the concrete. Aesthetically, it makes me cringe (and always has, since I first heard of people doing that when I was about age eight), but sometimes it's not all about me. Isaiah could hardly wait to put our initials in. Though I think he would have done so anyway, he stuck around through the entire process, I think in part to make sure we would remember. He was so pleased to have them there. In this case, it's a little celebration of our family.

I was amazed that something that we started over a year ago, with the gravel pad, that took much of the winter to saw into boards (which we'll recover after the concrete hardens), that required Butch and Phil to dig, and days of work to build formwork, to backfill, to place rebar, was poured in about two hours. The trucks showed up around noon, and all had left by about 2pm.

Phil had to drive up to town then to return the rented concrete vibrator. He said he realized just how tired he was on the way home, when he offered Isaiah the chance to drive. (Isaiah pointed out several reasons that wouldn't be a good idea. Primarily the fact that he wouldn't be able to reach the pedals.) Phil walked in the door and took a good nap.

The concrete had started to pull away from the form work already by the evening. The boys and dog walked across the top. Another day or two to harden, then we'll remove the boards, and it'll be time to start building!

Two more little thoughts from today. Jadon tells a funny story about how, when we first arrived on the land, "Mom was happily talking on the phone, and Dad was busy looking around, but I was sitting on top of the van, eaten alive by sweat bees, crying about the strange place we had come to." The sweat bees were out in force today. Joe gamely watched the first concrete truck do its work, but then grew so sad with the little stings, he headed in to watch from the safety of the window.

And in the evening, Phil and I walked over to see the cows. Beatrice came up to me for the first time, and licked my fingers to get the juice of our farm fresh plums. What a beautiful little herd, against the beautiful view of the neighbors to the south.

We think the grass is looking better this year than last. The broad view is magnificent and green. Up close, the coverage is still a bit bare, not as filled in as we'd prefer. But that will come.