The Pad

 

One day my dad was rolling around in the dirt working on the tractor. He dropped a bearing in the sand. He was choked, swearing and kicking the dirt he told me he would really love a cement pad to work from so he could stop dropping tools in the sand but still get to work outside.

My dad made me the man I am today. Without him I wouldn’t have the same life. Not even close. I honoured him and the farm I grew up on by pouring this cement slab. It cost $6000. Truth be told, I couldn’t think of a better way to spend it. I owe him so much more.

Its was pretty sweet because when he told me how much he wanted the pad I could tell he was serious. He went on for about 5 mins explaining how thick it would be and how it would run down the side of the building and have a big space to work off out front. It was cool because he was dreaming. I know he’s way to cheep to spend that kind of money on himself. He would rather just lay a sheet of plywood down and work off of that.

About a month later, he left on a 2 week hunting trip. I called my neighbour and second dad, Brad Read because I didn’t know anything about how to tackle this project. He advised me and organized a excavator and the concrete crew. In the mean time I moved all the junk and started building the fittings in my free time after work.

The surprize actually got ruined because he shot his elk early and needed to race it home so the meat didn’t spoil. He arrived a week early. Right in the middle of the pour. Oh well what can you do.

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