Sunday BBQ on a Half-Finished Deck — and Why That's the Point

We'd been renovating for eight months. The kitchen was done. The bathroom was done. The bedrooms were painted. The floors were refinished.

But the deck wasn't finished.

The deck was the last project. And it was taking forever. I'd gotten the framing done, the joists laid, and the decking boards cut. But I hadn't installed the railings. I hadn't built the steps. I hadn't stained anything.

It was half-finished. And Sarah invited people over for a BBQ anyway.

The Invitation

"Ryan," Sarah said one Friday, "I'm inviting the Thompsons and the Garcias over on Sunday. We're doing a BBQ."

"On the deck?" I asked.

"Yes, on the deck."

"But the deck isn't finished. There's no railing. There are no steps. The boards aren't even stained."

Sarah smiled. "It's not finished yet. But it's functional. And I want to use it. We've been living in this construction zone for eight months. I want to enjoy the house. Even if it's not perfect."

The Prep

I spent Saturday doing a "make it safe" cleanup. I put down some scrap plywood to cover a gap in the decking. I set up a folding table for food. I put a cooler of drinks in the corner.

It wasn't pretty. But it wasn't dangerous.

Sarah spent Saturday making food. She made her famous potato salad. She marinated tri-tip. She bought good bread and good cheese.

She was excited. And I realized that I'd been so focused on "finishing" that I forgot we could enjoy the house along the way.

The Sunday BBQ

Sunday arrived. The Thompsons and Garcias showed up at noon. They walked through the kitchen, admired the new cabinets, and said all the nice things you say to someone who just renovated.

Then they walked out to the deck. The half-finished, no-railings, unstained deck.

"What a great space!" Maria Garcia said. "You've got the best yard on the block."

She didn't mention the missing railings. She didn't mention the bare wood. She just saw the potential.

We grilled tri-tip. The kids played in the yard. We sat on the deck—on folding chairs, on the wood, on the ground—and ate and laughed.

What I Learned

That BBQ taught me something important: the house doesn't have to be finished to be enjoyed.

I'd been treating the renovation like a deadline. A finish line. A thing that had to be complete before we could relax.

But Sarah was right. The deck was functional. The yard was lovely. The food was good. And the people we cared about were there.

The missing railings didn't matter. The unstained wood didn't matter. What mattered was that we were using the house. Living in it. Making memories in it.

The Conversation That Stayed With Me

Late in the afternoon, I was standing at the grill and my friend Tom came over. Tom had renovated his own house a few years back—a 1940s bungalow in South Pasadena. He knew the drill.

He looked at the deck, then at me, and said, "You know, when I finished my house, I thought I'd feel different. I thought there'd be a moment where everything was perfect and I could finally relax."

I nodded. "Did it happen?"

"No," he said. "Because there's always something else. A new project. A new problem. A new thing you want to change. If you wait for everything to be perfect, you'll never stop waiting."

He was right. I'd been waiting for the "finish line." But there is no finish line. There's just a series of moments—some finished, some not.

The Real Finish Line

I finished the deck three weeks later. The railings went up. The steps were built. The stain was applied. It's beautiful now.

But I remember the Sunday BBQ more than I remember finishing the deck. I remember the laughter. The tri-tip. The kids running around the yard. The feeling of being surrounded by people I care about.

That's the point of a renovation. It's not the cabinets. It's not the appliances. It's not the perfectly stained deck.

It's the family. The friends. The BBQ.

What I'd Tell You If You're in the Middle of It

If you're in the middle of a renovation right now, here's what I want you to hear:

Stop waiting for perfect. It's not coming. There will always be another project. Another repair. Another room that needs attention.

Use the house while it's in progress. Have people over. Cook a meal. Sit on the half-finished deck and watch the sunset. The house is still a home, even with exposed joists.

Take the photos. I regret not taking more photos of the deck that day—the kids in the yard, the smoke from the grill, the mess of unfinished wood. Those photos would remind me that the best moments often happen in unfinished spaces.

Don't save the celebration for the end. I made that mistake. I thought we'd have a big party when everything was done. But by the time everything was done, I was tired. I'd moved on to the next thing. The celebration never happened.

Don't be like me. Celebrate along the way. Open the wine on a Wednesday night. Have the BBQ on the half-built deck. Throw the dinner party in the kitchen that's still missing the backsplash.

The Lesson

If you're in the middle of a renovation and it feels like it will never end, take a break. Have people over. Cook food. Sit in the chaos and remember why you're doing it.

You're not renovating a house. You're building a home.

And a home doesn't need to be perfect to be full.