Well, okay. We don't have millions in the bank. We haven't struck oil on any property we own. We don't even live in Beverly Hills.
So, I don't know exactly what we are.
Perhaps we are just ingenious. I think that is what my mother thinks more times than not.
Case in point, this:
This is what happens to wrought iron after years and years and YEARS of dog pee. Do you notice how there should be three legs to the post? There are only two. One entire leg has rotted away.
Makes everyone say ick. GO ahead. Say it. I don't mind.
The cost to replace the five separate wrought iron posts is more than we want to spend at this time. However, we also don't want the carport fiberglass roof to fall down and smack us in the noggins. So, my ever inventive maternal unit came up with this idea:
It's concrete. Its a concrete footing for the post. This particular post is actually the railing leading into the house. That is the main entrance for everyone... so it HAD to be fixed.
Thank you, makers of Quik-rete. You have saved the day.
Well... you and the maternal unit and apparently a plastic Solo cup.
Fear not, dear readers... take a look back at that first picture, and you will notice that once the concrete dries up, we'll paint it green to match the decor.
We do have our standards, you know.
1 comment:
Laughing Hard.
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