Right now, we have a bathtub full of cold water.

And last I looked, it was nine degrees outside (that's Fahrenheit, folks).

And I hear the sounds of heavy equipment working.

If you don't already see how those three things are related, well, I suspect you've never lived in a northern temperate zone.

It all started when I took our Christmas cards to the post office, first thing this morning. And discovered...

Water erupting out of the ground, just across the street.

Yeah, we're not that far from Yellowstone, but still, I doubted it was a real geyser. So, at the P.O., I borrowed the postmaster's phone.

By the time I got back home, filled the tub with water, and grabbed the camera, the police chief (whose breakfast I interrupted) and town maintenance guy were there. Chipping away at the ice on the road, trying to find the shut-off valve to the fire hydrant.

With no luck. Even using their magic wand metal detector.

Apparently it was up to me to suggest the maintenance guy head to the town shop and get the street blueprints.

By the time he returned with the rolled plats, his boss had arrived. Who also did not know where the shut-off was, but at least knew how to read the plats. (So did I, surprisingly enough.)

"It's probably just the valve to the hydrant," the boss asserted hopefully.

"No. It's Saturday and it's freezing cold," answered maintenance guy.

"It'll be the main."

..

..

It's the main.