The workmen who’ve dug up my yard five times on their quest to correctly bury our power lines completed installing the underground junction a while ago but there is just something about it that has been nagging at me with more voracity than a South American wife . … should that be possible .
I was probably ten when I got a pair Sears and Roebuck Trans Talk walkie talkies for Christmas as they were all the rage with the kids in the neighborhood . They were my first introduction to the air waves and to 9 volt batteries that powered them . By this time most of us kids had already developed a quick and healthy respect for electrical conductivity simply by jamming something in a wall outlet . Our next lesson was that saliva helps a nine volt battery transmit its charge to the tongue .
We finally got a good rain the other day intense enough to quickly fill the drainage swale in front of the house . It also quickly filled the junction box that has found a home at the bottom of that swale with enough force that seven foot staccato bursts of water were being pumped into the air through the top . Had the electrical been connected I believe Yellowstone would have been green with envy at my very own Old Faithful lit up like a Christmas Tree on the front lawn .
As we view the possibilities a little harsher that a nine volt on the tongue we’re thinking heavy rubber boots and avoiding metal objects on rainy days ….. at least until the bugs get ironed out .
