One stone. That’s all I set today. One normal-looking rock. It’s not even very big. I’ve set big stones that take all day to get just right with excavators and straps and chains and saws and lining bars and laser levels and all the other tools required for intricate work. But this one, it’s right at the limit of what I can safely pick up by hand, and well within the range of what I can easily roll into place.
All day. One stone. And it felt like a great accomplishment.
That one stone took about two minutes to set. I rolled it away from the pile, flopped it onto the ground, and nestled it snugly into place. A quick eye along the stringline and there it was: the first stone of the project. Time to go home.
99.999 percent of the work took place before that rock found a home.
First there were sketches. Then clay models. Lots of clay models. Then a long period of head scratching. How would I translate one of those models into the real world? I walked around Lowe’s until I got an idea for how to build a frame. Then I built it, tore it down after realizing it was too tall, and tried again. Then I realized it was too narrow and tried again. Then, like little stonemason Goldilocks, I got it just right.
Looking at the finished frame, I thought, Whoa. How am I going to build this thing? What have I done to myself?
I guess I’ll set the first stone and trust that it will come together from there.
I’ll find out tomorrow.