Every job starts on site with a tape measure and a hard look at what is already there. We walk the slab with you, measure the run, check the fall, and find where water goes when it rains. Old concrete tells us plenty. Cracks that run straight mean one thing, cracks that spider out of a corner mean another. We would rather spend the time reading it in person than guess from a photo on a phone. Measurements go on paper before we leave.
The estimate comes back in writing and broken into parts, because a number by itself tells you nothing about what you are buying. It names thickness, reinforcement, how much old material comes out, the finish, and whether a truck can reach the pour or we move the mix by buggy. If something is likely to change once demolition opens the ground up, we say so then, not later. Scope drift is the reason concrete jobs go sideways, and most of it is avoidable at the estimate stage.
Permitting depends on the address and on what the work touches. A job inside Marietta city limits pulls its permit through the City of Marietta, and anything that ties into a public sidewalk or a right of way gets handled before we order material, not after. We handle the filing. Homeowners rarely enjoy that part, and inspectors would rather deal with the contractor who poured the slab anyway. Skipping that step is how a finished driveway ends up coming back out.
Demolition day is loud and it is the fastest part of the schedule. We break the old concrete out in sections, load it, and haul it off rather than burying it in the yard. Saw cuts go where the new joint pattern wants them, so the seam between old work and new does not land in the middle of your approach. Once the ground is open, we finally see the base, which is where most failed driveways start. Nothing gets poured that day, and nothing should.
Base work is the part nobody photographs and the part that decides how long the slab lasts. We grade to the depth the pour needs, cut out soft spots, bring in stone, and compact it in lifts until a boot leaves no print. Forms go up straight, staked tight, set to a fall that moves water away from the house. A concrete installation is only as flat and as durable as the ground holding it up. We check the forms twice before anything else happens.
Steel goes in next. A concrete driveway carries vehicle weight, so it gets rebar on chairs, tied on a grid, sitting up in the slab where it can do something instead of lying on the dirt. Lighter flatwork may take wire mesh instead. We size the reinforcement to the load and the thickness, not to habit, and we set the joint layout at the same time so the slab cracks where we tell it to. Every slab moves. Control joints decide whether that movement shows.
Pour day runs on the mix truck's clock, so we start early and staff it properly. Concrete gets placed, screeded, bull floated, and then left alone while the bleed water rises and goes off. Rushing that step is how you trap water in the surface and lose the finish later. Stamped and colored work happens in this window too, and stamping a large area means more hands standing by. Exposed aggregate has its own timing, since the surface paste has to come off before it sets hard.
Curing is waiting, and it is the part people push against. Foot traffic comes back before vehicles do, and we give you the actual dates for your pour rather than a rule of thumb. Sidewalks and driveways both look finished long before they are strong. Before we leave, forms come out, the site gets swept, and the joints get cut. We walk it with you one more time and point out what to watch during the first month. Then it is yours.