Grill Area, A Pattern Emerges

The start of any project is ugly. Demolition creates a disturbing chaos, visually and emotionally, because we can't be sure that such destruction is necessary. After all, someone years ago installed the concrete picnic table in our back yard, and no doubt they stood back to gaze at it with affection. I'm sure they had some pleasant dinners on that table, but not us--we've neglected it, let it grow mold, and never once had a meal on it.

And the picnic table was in the spot where I plan to build the new grill area. But what to do with half a ton of concrete? Break it up and throw it away? No, I decided to knock it down and use it as a foundation for the stone patio, elevated so that a heavy rain doesn't flood the grill. It just took a few minutes and the table top and benches were flat on ground. No going back now.

Then I moved some of the old concrete tiles to complete the base area. A pattern began to emerge from the chaos. I filled in the gaps with rubble, like paint on a canvas, and the pattern came to life.

I almost ran into the house to get Cheryl. "There's something really beautiful in the yard I'd like you to photograph," I said to her with some pride.

We walked out and she curled her eyebrows at me. "Are you kidding?" she asked.

"You can make it beautiful," I said. (After all, I did get her that really nice camera lens for Christmas...)

"OK," she said, "but we aren't going to actually see this, are we?"

I explained that it will be under the stone.

A future homeowner will uncover my artwork some day and wonder why we buried a perfectly nice picnic table. Maybe I should leave a note.