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
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.