So we receive a call from a commercial Mount Trashmore operator. Their gate at a leaching facility has been hit. Oh Dear. The only one doing fuck all is myself.
I don't want to go but....you know. The Celt suggests our eldest grandson should be home.
We arrive on site. Oh Dear. Since these facilities are subject to truckian assault we store certain materials for use in just such occasion. All of the gates are standard.
The geological conditions in this area are florida gold as deep as you can dig. Pure fine sugar sand.
As we begin to remove pretzel posts I know we're in trouble. Quite a bit of effort is required to excavate the posts.
We finally get the posts out and are ready to set new ones. Typically you want to dig down an additional foot into undisturbed earth in order to get a great foundation.
Three hours later we finally broke through oolitic fill we had never encountered before. The final hole was through a boulder. We hadn't brought pneumatics nor an auger.
At the very end of my physical strength I asked Jeeebus for magic power aloud.
My grandson was long spent. He's very strong but hasn't yet developed the will to overcome.
This is key.
I lifted the spud bar and asked Jeeebus to guide the strike that I might cleve that obstacle. I struck. It split.
We were able to wiggle out the chunks.
Lucas kept a human head sized piece. I asked him why he wanted it.
