New steps

I have lived in my house for almost five and a half years. Sometimes it seems like a lifetime ago and at other times it seems like just a few short months. Every time my Dad visits, for the entire time I've lived here, I've heard him complain about the steps leading from my garage into my house. I use the word steps loosely. It really was just one cement step between the floor of the garage and the kitchen. And that last step going up was a real doozy.

Last Friday afternoon my parents came to town for the weekend. Loaded in the back of their pickup on the trip down were my new garage steps. Dad's a welder and last time he was here (I don't even remember when it was it's been so long ago) he measured and muttered and vowed to make me some new steps before he came back again. He's nothing if not true to his word.

Behold, the unveiling of the new steps:

You can see the rejected cement step in the right side of this picture. That step is very heavy and will have to wait for better tools to move it before it can leave the premises.

The new steps are sturdy (since they're all metal, it would be hard to imagine otherwise). I think if, God forbid, a tornado were to rip through my neighborhood, those steps would still be bolted down after the dust settled. There's only one warning I'll impart: don't walk on them without shoes.