Aug 9th - Concrete Day

Our foundation crew shows up at 7 am to complete the forms. By 11 am, the first concrete truck has arrived from Cortez. The concrete pumper kicks in and the concrete begins to flow.

A few of the small tapered pins have been left out and now the crew has to make adjustments. The pressure from concrete piled up 13’ high is immense. Lower 3’ intersecting walls are attached at the bottom of the wall where the foundation steps up. Lots of care involved to see that the concrete doesn’t blow out, but some blocking left out has allowed a small blowout, spewing concrete outside the form walls. The workers quickly shovel the concrete back inside the wall and stuff boards into the top of the wall to prevent further blowout. Nobody gets upset, just a small gliche and something they have to deal with all the time.

The 2^nd and 3^rd trucks empty into the concrete pump hopper and Chip realizes that we are short…about 3 yards short. They will come in the morning to strip forms and pour the balance of the walls near the cabin tomorrow afternoon. Extra steel needed is stuck into the wall as well as anchor bolts.

We are getting close to starting the framing. Joe and I meet to discuss an updated lumber order as well as framing details.

This afternoon, I took my pictures over to Donna's to show her mom, Joan Stanley. She is visiting from Cortez. Joan is a spry 75 years old and yet another Rico character. For 3 hours we pour over my grandad’s old photos. There is one photo of my granddad taken in the 1930s or 40s with someone I don’t recognize, however Joan does. It is Henry Stanley, her grandfather - the photo taken in California.

Joan has been coming every year to Rico since she was 4 years old and spent many a summer riding the old Rio Grande Southern trains and riding horses. Her best memories are of Rico when growing up.

My granddad, Chuck Lee, was a good friend of the Stanleys, and the photo was taken on a visit to California. A photo of the Rico community church shows a picture of her dad and grandmother. Joan tells me a wild story about my grandad Lee’s older brother, Hartley. She tells me, “ I have a story about your Uncle Hartley Lee, which you probably haven’t heard… Did you know he got the top of his head cut off?” “What!?”, I asked. “Hartley was up on the hill working with a saw mill that had one of those huge round saw blades and they were cutting planks, one of the planks jammed in the saw and as the plank came out of the saw it knocked him off balance and he fell into the saw blade, head first. The blade just cut the top of his head off right to the bone. The other men with him grabbed him out of the saw and holding his scalp on top of his head, they rushed him to Doctor Koplowitz’s office and the doc sewed it back on. You could always see the scar on his head around his flattop haircut.” (I have to check this out with my mom and see if she remembers this story)…

What a great visit with Joan. Unfortunately, she lost her beautiful old Victorian House full of Rico memorabilia a few years ago in an accidental fire. She now runs an antique shop in Cortez now…I will look forward to visiting her down there soon.