LT wondered why I’d set an alarm for 7 o’clock when the gravel wasn’t due until 8. Well, I’ve found that out the hard way, previously. Indeed, the very nice delivery man turned up at 7.40. Roses was still in her onesie and I didn’t have shoes on.
Thirty tonnes of gravel later, we were hard at work spreading it, though VNDM had dropped it as judiciously as possible, spreading as he went. Except, there had been a problem. Turned out there was a bit of a hole under a crust of hardcore, and he damn nearly went into it. He managed to save the lorry and back out, but I now have a socking great sinkhole in my drive. No one had any way of knowing it was there. We’ve got a plan for filling it, but I want to ask friend Jamie first, as he’s the smartest man I know, in practical terms, and if there’s a flaw in our plan, he’ll spot it and have a way round it. I’ve spoken to his wife and left a message.
Some more gravel spreading is to come tomorrow. Three loads has turned out to be enough for the time being which, at £350-plus per load, is a decent saving. But I’d steeled myself for the full Monty. If a job’s worth doing…
Sinkhole ?! Gah !
Skip the gravel and go for the truck mixer concrete pump.
It’s not as big as all that, but yes, concrete is what’s called for, we think.