Twelve bags deep and counting

A plan was hatched a few weeks ago to make a concrete quarter at the drains by Pete and Mike. Enlisted as their fellow west-side offsider, I agreed it was a stellar plan. we headed down there last weekend and measured up the transitions.



It's a sweet spot on the back of a high curved ledge, hopefully resulting in plenty of possibilities that most quarters don't offer.



Right next to these iconic landmarks. When concrete fever took hold, someone suggested putting a trannie at the bottom of one of them.



After all our bluster and enthusiasm and even a Friday evening Bunnings mission, both Mike and I sort of blew it on the day, arriving late. Pete had been there for ages, gathering rocks in a blue shopping bag with no handles. He was extremely keen and undoubtedly the driving force behind the mission.



Crucially, Mike is a builder. Hence, the wheelbarrow, the Italian trowel, the brawn, the know-how and of course, the orange vest. He had been out all night and was a bit worse for wear, but got things happening right away.







The first load of 'crete was laid. It didn't go very far.



I became an instant authority on 'crete consistency, demanding more of a dahl texture as opposed to couscous. This is good dahl.



The ginger prince landed and blessed the occasion.



I predict Mike Martin will thoroughly shred the quarter upon its' completion.



Liege, also on hand and in good spirits.



Keegan was spending his birthday joyously shredding sketchy ledges.



Things were starting to take shape when we ran out of 'crete.



So we headed to Bunnings for more supplies. Note to others planning a similar project, you can never have enough 'crete. We still need more.



Perhaps the best thing about Bunnings is the sausage sizzle. Ed had been on hand the whole time, did I mention that? Good old Ed.



Back at the site, it was getting a tad dark. We polished off the last of the 'crete and things were looking very, very promising. Pete had come up with some crazy wet brush techniques to smooth things off. He was the gentle perfection of Matisse to my violent, erotic Picasso.



It still needs another coat and smoothing off. I went past it on the train today and it looked ok. Fingers crossed noone gets ahead of themselves and attempts to shred it before we polish it off next weekend. I'm looking at you, Prior!