DIY projects can be a lot of work, but realizing your limits and deciding to trash the broken projects can also be a lot of work.

Read how one Redditor recalls how his stubborn grandfather handled it all — even if his ways were questionable.

Here are all the details.

Want to see proof for yourself? Okay!

This is about my grandfather, from waaaay back in the early 90s.

He got a kick out of this story for years after it happened.

But before we get started, you need to know two very important things about this grandfather.

Two things about Gramps:

1: He was very much a DIY kind of person. He would not pay for things if he could do it himself, and by God, he was determined to do it himself.

2: He bought his house to retire in, and though he lived in a desert where even the winters are often warm enough to walk around in short sleeves, he wanted a hot tub.

Combine these, and he built himself a deck on the side of the house with lattice walls for privacy, where he could have himself a nice private hot tub.

This was his pride and joy.

This sounds really nice.

We live a good 20-minute drive from the city, so we could sit on the deck to see the lights, or lounge in the hot tub and enjoy the fragrance of the wisteria vines he grew into the lattice.

Honestly, it was rather lovely.

Fast forward a couple of years.

A few years of paradise until a certain pet did something about it all…

Family had a dog who liked to chew things.

He ended up chewing through the base of every single wisteria, killed the lot of them, but they were so wound into the lattice that it would’ve been a pain to get it all out.

Gramps had wanted a garden in the back corner of the yard. He built a grape arbor, plant beds, all that jazz.

He may have been good at DIY but not at gardening.

But he did not have a green thumb.

He tried; don’t get me wrong, but his usual determination didn’t win against the desert, and he eventually gave that up.

And the hot tub…Oh man, that poor thing.

Oh, and the dog didn’t have anything to do with the hot tub — but that had its moment too.

One day, Gramps went out to sit in it.

When he got out, he forgot to turn off the heater.

Every single drop of water evaporated, and the whole thing was just absolutely ruined.

There’s no way it could have been repaired.

Naturally, the grandfather knew the perfect solution…

So Gramps, in his usual DIY fashion (and probably a bit of spite), took a chainsaw to the thing.

He cut it into bits.

Then, because his poor, beloved hot tub has gone to the sauna in the sky, he finally took down the lattice, with the long-dead wisteria vines still entangled.

Then, he tore down and ripped up his failed garden.

All that hard work reduced to garbage.

All in all, he was left with a massive pile of rubbish and debris in the driveway.

Gramps had this little Volkswagen pickup truck. Image isn’t his, but it’s kinda similar. Tiny little thing.

The closest trash dump was roughly 30-ish miles away.

Gramps loaded the back of his truck with refuse, strapped it down, drove it to the dump, unloaded it all, and headed back for another.

And Gramps was going to make sure all of it made it to the dump — even if it took all day.

Being retired and having little else to do, Gramps didn’t mind having to go back and forth, doing all this labor. But after the fourth or fifth delivery, the guys running the dump realized he had more than they thought.

They tried to tell him he couldn’t keep bringing it all there, since they don’t take commercial trash, only residential.

He insisted it was from his own home, he just had a lot of it.

They refused to believe him, and said that if he wanted to keep using their site, he’d have to let them follow him “home” to confirm.

Of course, this would be a sight for sore eyes, but the grandfather was more than willing!

Sure thing, no skin off Gramps’ nose.

Now, one final bit of important information: This house is in the middle of nowhere. The roads were still dirt, except for the three or four main thoroughways.

The neighborhood is surrounded by undeveloped land, and back then, there were a lot of people in the area with horses.

The city would come through and grade the roads occasionally to smooth them out, but it always developed ruts, divots, and loose rocks, and generally with horse droppings everywhere.

It was either late spring or early summer, so it’s hot, dry, dusty, and smelly.

And the ride there was bumpy, to say the least…

Gramps, in his sturdy little truck, didn’t care.

He led those guys up the main road, down the dirt back roads, driving nice and slow to avoid the rocks and divots and kicking up too much dust (and manure).

He made it to his house, waved the boys back, and carefully backed into the side gate, where the massive pile of deconstruction waited.

The guys parked their vehicle on the side of the fence, got out, came around the gate, and just stared.

Gramps asked them if he can keep dropping off his trash.

The guys took in the pile of detritus in the driveway, the nice two-story house, the two-car garage, the well-manicured lawn.

The guys had no choice but to say:

“Yep, that’s fine.”

They left to drive down those dusty, rocky, divoted, poop-covered back roads, then the 30-ish miles back to the dump.

It took quite a few trips, and several days, before Gramps finally cleared all the rubbish, but on each trip, he gave those boys a cheerful wave.

Was this grandfather practical or completely off his rocker? Let’s see what Reddit thinks.

Read the comments below to find out.

Some thought it impractical to drive separately.

Others wondered if these workers minded their time and gas wasted.

And finally, someone reminisced about the truck Gramps was driving.

This is a man who likes to handle things himself!

If you liked that post, check out this post about a woman who tracked down a contractor who tried to vanish without a trace.