Monday, August 27, 2012

A fence post

One might say that a wooden fence is only about as strong as its weakest post. And after that post gives in to gravity's temptation, the weight of all that wood is enough to convince every other post in the row to follow.

Last thursday briefly took a few minutes of its time to throw a couple of 90km/h gusts of wind roughly perpendicular to our 25-year-old hardwood fence. I'm sure it groaned like an old man when it finally decided enough was enough. Discovering I had to squeeze along the chicken run to collect the eggs that evening was a sour ending to an otherwise beautiful winter spring day. Full credit to the chicken coop though - had it not been there, I would have been crying over the loss of my recently flattened orange trees.

So disappointingly, this year I'll again be continuing my habit of missing the start of spring. A new fence means hiring tradesmen -  which, to my garden beds, would be roughly the equivelent of inviting a convoy of M60 Pattons to drive through my yard. In my experience tradies and seedlings just don't mix.

But everything aside, I'm kind of looking forward to the opportunities a new fence will present.


  1. Oh dear. Well, a new fence it is, then! Good luck!

    1. I'm dreading the amount of time and effort it will now take to get quotes and oversee getting it done. However, it certainly will be good to have a solid fence above the garden beds - attaching supports to such an old wooden fence was difficult at best. We'll probably also get a colourbond steel fence - so a new micro climate to work with too. Hopefully I don't miss more than a few weeks of spring