Well. One hasn’t experienced household living until one opens ones front door and is assaulted with the scent of earth. Dirt. Brown dirt.
So I go downstairs, and there are the mounds.
It’s pretty impressive, actually. These three guys dig up everything under a three-square-foot section of basement concrete . . . after jackhammering out the concrete to begin with.
I can see where the posts are going to go, and the process is making some sense.
Samson, of course, was shaking in his boots when I got home. I may have to consider taking him with me to school tomorrow, although the last of the jackhammering appears to have been accomplished.