Today the foundation guys started throwing the rebar down in the trenches.
Actually, they didn't throw it, they carefully laid it in place.
It is daintily raised in the air, like a petticoat avoiding the dusty streets, by the little coat hangar wire contraptions shown here. There was some good natured grumbling from these veterans of foundation work about how it worked just fine to throw it down and pour the concrete over it. Apparently suspending the rebar makes sure it doesn't wick up moisture from the soil and rust inside the concrete. They all seemed to think it was much ado about nothing but were perfectly happy to follow the rules.
I guess they like passing inspections.
The work of tying the rebar together with wires seemed so... so...
Well, let's just say that I started wondering if Dante ever mentioned this particular Circle of Hell.
Imagine sitting in a shallow grave trench in the sun in 95 degree heat tying steel rods together with wire that hurts your thumbs when you twist it. Now imagine doing it all day long. Just watching them made me want to run back to the safety of my laundry room, ripe with trunks from summer camp.
Eventually, they added a third dimension to the project and began to literally raise the bar -- the rebar.
Once they added all the vertical components, they could fit, they festooned them with orange safety tips. I was very glad of that. My imagination was already leading me places I didn't want to go before the old timers started swapping stories of unfortunate colleagues getting impaled on rebar.
With all this steel, I don't think this wall will be going anywhere.
If there does happen to be a small Minotaur in there, I don't think he's going anywhere either. Looks like they've got him trapped.
In the mean time, there seems to be a bulldozer in my back yard.
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