In the quest to build a dry path to and from the caravans in advance of my parents’ visit, I went looking for gravel at the local quarry. I’m glad I did a recce first because it was pretty hard to find and a ridiculously bad road, but the extremely positive result was that I got a ton of gravel (and very nice gravel, thank you) for £8, when I could have been lucky to pay £60 for it at the builder’s merchants. Thanks, Jim Monahan, for that little tip!
I just called up the local quarry and asked if I could bring my trailer and buy some gravel and they were very helpful and friendly, so I drove my trusty van and my little comedy trailer among the huge lorries, down into the quarry, and they dumped a ton in it (which it slightly struggled to cope with, I think I might get a little less next time) and I drove away.
Absolutely marvellous.
So then I spent the afternoon shovelling it into a wheelbarrow and depositing it into piles along the soon-to-be path. I moved about two thirds of it, but then my arms gave up.
In another corner of the plot, Michelle was single-handedly turning over the whole of the future vegetable garden. And, she was up at 7:00 to start again.
And I finished sorting out the freegle wood, putting aside the bits I need to build a few fireside benches today.
Having also finished cutting up all the wood for the summer’s bonfires, I though we should go ahead and use some. It was still a little chilly, if I’m honest. But the sausages were very much worth it. Bring on summer.
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