Pounding it to rubble

So much for our new slab.

George and his crew rolled in about 8:30 a.m. today.
I peered out of the kitchen window to see George digging under the slab with a shovel, then pounding the shit out of it with a sledge hammer. In 20 minutes' time he broke up about a quarter as much concrete as the entire crew had managed all day yesterday.
It was just a matter of technique, he explained to me. If you undercut the slab and remove the earth supporting it, it's much easier to fracture the concrete. Conversely, if it's resting on solid earth, it's a real bitch to break up. His brother Aaron apparently forgot this important detail when he supervised yesterday's work.
As they jackhammered and dug their way along, it became increasingly clear that the slab had major problems that would have seriously compromised the project. The footer was non-existent in some places, there was too much sand under the slab in many places, there were air pockets and other problems. George said the garage would have had terminal structural problems in 15 years or less because of the crappy slab.
Our friend, the local building inspector, dropped by to get up to speed on the latest developments. We explained the new plan, showed him where the new slab will go - well within the required setbacks - and he assured us we'll get our permit at the May 14 plan commission meeting.
So we directed George to hold off on digging the new footers until we have a permit. In the meantime, he can finish removing the slab, push some dirt around for site preparation and get the hot tub up on the deck.
The siding guy and his kid showed up about 10 a.m., established that the electrical circuit involving the stairway landing outlet is working and did away with the ratty door on the north side of the house.
George and his guys called it a day at 3:30 p.m., promising to be back about 7 or 7:30 a.m. tomorrow to finish the slab removal.
In the meantime, I called Waste Management and put off the collection of their dumpster from tomorrow until Monday.
To celebrate this bit of progress, I walked down to my BMW-riding neighbor's house to visit our two motorcycles that have been stored in his barn since our old garage was razed. I applied the 2008 license plate stickers, stuck the new certificates of registration into the under-seat tool compartments and took Maria's K75S for a 20-mile ride.
I find it horrifying that I have ridden a grand total of 71 miles this year. That's the worst start I've had in the 30-some years I've been riding.
This weekend will be occupied with Morgan's graduation from Indiana University, but Maria has decreed that I must ride somewhere - maybe to a rally - the following weekend. Weather permitting, I'll take her up on that offer.