Tuesday 24 May 2016

My new patio

Many years ago, the father of one of my friends built himself a palatial new home.  Employing his great skills as a respected local architect, every feature was carefully designed to make optimum use of the plot.  As a final touch, he built a sun balcony on the north side of the house.  'Why,' I asked myself on many occasions, 'would you put a balcony where the sun never shines?'

The questionable skills of my friend's dad are not unique. Our home, which we bought 3½ years ago, came complete with a large patio, where we might sit out on balmy summer days, eat salads and sip refreshing, cool Sauvignon Blanc. There was only one problem; even on the longest of sun-soaked midsummer days the patio was in shadow from about 2pm.  So after a lot of thought, we — that is me, being the retired member of this partnership and consequently with time on my hands — marked out a new patio in the sunniest part of the garden and set to work, creating my own architectural masterpiece.

The stone was duly delivered — a kit of parts, reminiscent of a one of those Christmas cracker puzzles in which you have to piece together the bits to form a square... only this one was a circle.  I got some funny looks when I turned up at the builders' merchant to order 12 bags of sand and 2 of cement, but this girl was undeterred. And so, with frequent inspections and hints from S-, and the help of two instructive YouTube videos, I slowly set to work.

Here, at long last, is the result, complete with a shiny new table that I spotted on eBay. The old table was rectangular, but one really can't have a rectangular table on a round patio! It was also rather too large.


Last Monday evening, basking in the evening sunshine, we used the new patio for the first time. The Co-op was raided for chicken thighs, rocket (lots, 'cos we like that), things to stick on skewers, coleslaw and dips, and the pantry delivered of homemade bread, homegrown beetroot and a bottle of montepulciano. I fired up the chiminea and we settled down to 2½ hours of diet-busting, unhurried feasting.

Yes, the new patio is a great success.

Incidentally, I was going to title this post Christening the new patio until I discovered that, according to the Urban Dictionary, phrases such as christen the new car mean to have sex in it. Be assured, dear reader, that I have no plans to copulate on the patio... well not when I have the option of a Fern Ticket!

4 comments:

  1. That looks like another proper job. You are so capable!

    If I were ever up to getting building materials together for a DIY effort - I won't be - I don't think I'd have any qualms about popping into Wickes or some other builders merchant to inspect the goods and discuss the order, notwithstanding that I'd be a single woman among a lot of men. I mean, if you are on your own, what else are you supposed to do? And why is it 'all right' for a lady to order in bits for her garden, for a landscaping project, say, but 'odd' (in the eyes of traditionalists) if she orders in bags of sand and cement? Illogical.

    Lucy

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  2. I agree, it is illogical. In fairness to our local builders' merchant, I reckon that the feelings of being 'odd' were as much mine as theirs, though these places are very masculine. The accepted uniform seems to be cement-stained overalls, hefty boots and a pencil stuck behind one ear. I shall have to practice!

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  3. I love ordering heavy building materials and watching often weaker males load them into my car so that their male egos remain intact...

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  4. Everything looks really good! It sounds like it was quite the task but that you still had fun with the landscaping and the patio. These pictures of the work you have done are truly stunning and seem like they should be on the cover of some magazine like Better Homes & Gardens or something along those lines. Job well done!

    Franklin Stewart @ Muller Exteriors

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