The concrete slab (cue ominous music). This is what it usually looks like in the summer:
And here it is in all its fall loveliness:
Our garden from a year or two ago. You can see the corner of the concrete slab at lower right.
No more concrete slab! More room for garden! Yay!
Men at work.
Can you tell they're related? 
Now that's a respectable garden! (Of the back yard suburban Chicago variety, anyway.)
3 comments:
Wait! Did that thing prove to be thin enough that your men could break it up on their own?
What did you do with the pieces?
By the way, I'm not impugning the strength of your men; I've had occasion to try breaking up concrete before. It doesn't always go so well!
Impugn away, EC. There's no way they could have broken up that concrete.
Our dear, wonderful handyman/contractor, who seems to like us for some reason, pounded the metaphorical pavement until he found a landscaping company that would do it at a price we could swallow (even then it was a bit rough going down). It was about half of the first quote we got. They came in, broke it up, carried out the concrete in pieces, and were done in a couple of hours time. YAY! It is so wonderful to look about the back door and not see that ugly thing! (There's still a mound of dirt and rocks to be dealt with, but I can live with that for a while.)
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