What the...?

     At 2;30 a.m., I woke to what looked like a raid: a series of flashing lights, a large double piece of equipment parked on the road between my house and Nellie's, and a worker placing the orange traffic cones from my house  to hers.  The other day a large piece of equipment pulled into  her driveway and a worker took pictures from in front of my mailbox to that stretch of road. Then they left. Now they're doing something; I don't know what, but the lights are illuminating the entire interior of my house. If it's roadwork of some kind, I guess they picked a good time because there is no traffic going by. (I took this picture through the window and it doesn't show much, but I don't want to go outside.) But at least my heart has stopped pounding---it's not good to wake up to bright lights flashing throughout your house. But it could be worse.

Now that it's dawn, 5 a.m., I can see it's a Spectrum truck, one of the vehicles anyway. The guy in the bucket appears to be laboriously working on the cables---there are 6 altogether-----and maybe splicing them together, or rending them apart, I don't know.  I know we were without internet, TV or phone service for a while. I'd thought we were supposed to be apprised of any break in scheduled service. What if I had to send an important email at 4:50 in the morning. Or make an important phone call, or receive one?
   And what happened to the heat wave. It seems chilly out: it reads 60 degrees outside the kitchen window.
  I wonder what the pay rate is to be in a bucket in the wee hours with your arms stretched over your head, working with a helmet light amidst power lines: no wonder our rates are so high.