On Guard: Lessons in Fencing

I could have also entitled this entry "Ode to Ringo", for it is because of him that we embarked this week on the journey of fence building. He is a good dog, faithful in every way, but as is many a dog, prone to wander lust whilst he should stay put at home.












We didn't know what we were doing. I tried just then thinking of a better way to put it, a manner in which to phrase it that would perhaps be more gentle and less harsh in regards to our aspiring architect/builder/carpenter selves. . . Nah . . . that pretty much summed it up. We didn't know what we were doing. We went to our beloved home improvement superstore with the intentions of buying a vinyl picket fence. Upon figuring the cost of said fence, we began the exploration into building our own fence for less.

THREE hours later, we had all of our anticipated supplies to build two 18-foot fences, one on either side of our house, and one 4-foot gate. We came straight home and commenced to building. We, being inexperienced, ignorant, and over zealous, began the task around 4 pm. We did not dig holes first. We did not set posts in the ground, brace and cement them. We did not attach a fence to sturdy posts already set in the ground. Nope. Not us. We built that sucker on the ground, dug holes in the dark, hoisted all 18 feet into the holes, filled the holes with their formerly residing dirt, and let it ride. The good news was that that sucker stood all night in a windstorm that sent practically everything else in our yard a-whirling through the night.

The next day I got to looking at the fence. I recognized some things we could have done better. We still had the other 18-foot fence for the other side of the house to build. I knew it would be the better of the two because of the wisdom that came from the experience of having already built the first. The second section was to be put on the other side of the house, practically invisible from the road. That would mean that the better fence would be virtually unseen. Well, we couldn't have that, could we?

So, in my tradition of "I'll just do it myself so I won't have to wait", I took apart the existing fence into three 6-foot sections, carried it over to the other side of the house, laid it in place to be put into holes once they're dug, built the new and improved 18-foot fence, and laid it in place on the ground for Anthony to help me hoist it up and slide it into the holes when he got home. He brought with him bags of cement for the holes, a brilliant and useful recessed memory of a bracing system he, as a child, watched his dad use, and a set of rolling eyes for me and my She-Woman complex.

But he can't fool me. He'd rather dig the holes any day than have to build another section of fence. If I had to dig the holes, I'd sit in the first one, not even half way done, and sob. We are a great team. Here's the evidence.