For the past two days, Joann, Corey, and I have been waging an all-out war against a certain fire hydrant and its corresponding isolation valve. We finished switching the hydrant yesterday, but it took us until this afternoon just to take the bolts off the old valve. Even more difficult was fitting the gaskets between the new valve and the flange. My thighs are sore from squatting in the hole and pulling and pushing wrenches all day (plus running the perimeter this morning with Johnny, who, I suspect, only asks me to run with him because he knows he's faster than me). After plenty of grunts and gnashed teeth, everything finally went together, and all we have left to do tomorrow is backfill.
Our job site is near the Communications Squadron. At least once every hour, a huge group would come outside to smoke, passing by our hole on their way. Whenever they walked by, they would always get quiet and stare. It was almost like they were observing a new species or something. The office workers gazing at the labourers. Fascinating!