No offence, Part III

After a few days' respite, G returned to crack on with what's now known as 'That Bastard Fence'. The previous evening, I'd picked up a pickaxe and sledgehammer from lovely Lorraine's house in Brighton, one of the few items we left after previously ransacking her house for furniture. Lorraine also insisted on feeding me while I was there, despite having a tough day at a conference. She is one of life's wholeheartedly generous people.

So back to TBF... I'd dug a baby, kind of 'my first trench' wobbly ditch in the ground the previous day by way of trying to help. So G put the tools to use in the chilly garden while I worked very hard writing copy by the fire inside the cottage. Now this may sound like skiving but I can assure you it was simply a fair division of labour.

And the posts finally started going into the ground. The unending rain of the previous few days helped no-end on the... um... final couple of posts that weren't underscored by beelzebub's play-doh or whatever it is down there.

After shooting off to buy some slightly larger tacks, the majority of the wire was attached to said posts. And blow me down, I had a fence! We tested the fenced area by putting G's companion in it (Lochi, a lively and lovely German Pointer). After snuffling about a bit, he looking at the shut gate and started whining piteously. At that point we knew it was dog proof. Hurrah! Victory!

All that's left for me to do now is finish off the tacking and a bit of digging to stop anything unwanted burrowing in (likewise anything wanted burrowing out). Fed and watered G with spag bol and red wine by way of much appreciated thanks.