2-3 January: south fence, day nine

At home

Sunday, 2 January 2022

Before getting back to the fence, we had a stormy windy day at home, which was also Allan’s 69th birthday. (I find this age thing quite disconcerting. I’m only two years behind him.) Other than practical gifts like socks and pajamas, he was pleased with a full selection of his favorite candy bar from Our Kathleen and a couple of boating memoirs from me.

Skooter is a funny old boy. His latest favorite place to sleep is in the bathtub, which means he is inconvenienced when the water goes on. He will watch it with disbelief until it gets under his paws and then springs out in a huff.

Humans are such an inconvenience. At least we know how to open his cat food cans.

The wind howled, the rain poured to the tune of 1.42 inches, the lights flickered, and I read a disappointing novel by an author whose first novel (Did You Ever Have a Family) I had loved. Can’t choose a good book every time. I kept expecting more.

Monday, 3 January 2022

Much to our surprise, and contrary to the forecast, we were able to work on the fence with only a small amount of challenging weather. Our order of lumber was delivered midmorning from Oman and Son Lumber.

The rain gauge showed our substantial rainfall as did water on every path to the willow grove.

We had, I thought, five posts to install to finish the south fence and, now that I am digging post holes, too, we moved along rapidly. Me getting the three foot deep holes close to done is certainly helpful. I don’t have a strong enough grip with the arthritic right hand to hold the digger handles open hard enough to get that last six inches of sand out.

High tide filled the fence post holes as we dug them.

We persevered through two heavy squalls of hail.

The sun came out and the garden glowed.

I moved a big sword fern that has been in the open center of the willow grove, in what is now the logical path to a new central gate.

Allan uses a loose 2×4 to check the that the post tops are level.

Determined to keep the job ticking along, I dragged a couple of posts inch by inch to the work site. I cannot pick them up and carry them. Allan, who is only two inches taller than me, can. I find it amazing.

At three forty five, I felt the great sense of triumph that the last fence post had gone in. And then, to my horror, I realized that at the east end of the south side of the fence, we had not put in a post for the gate. I guess we had skipped it because we hadn’t figured out the gate size yet, meant to go back and do it and had both forgotten about it. We had a quick discussion about gate width; I took the biggest wheelbarrow to the opening and imagined wheeling it through at an angle, full of mulch, then started digging the hole. Allan took over because he is faster, and I took on the role of handing him tools: level, assorted tampers, and then shoveling sand into the hole. We were racing sunset. I kept telling him no one will know if the height of the post is not utterly perfect. However, he did make it perfect. (He realizes that level four feet off the ground is level across the top too, but, a level board across the top gives it that ‘ah-ha’ confirmation.)

A missing post had to be added here!

There actually is one more post to install, a decorative arbor one, not part of the fence, to define a path back into the Bogsy Wood. I had tried to dig the hole for it earlier in the afternoon but gave up because the hole immediately filled to the brim with water. The water table is so high that all the poles backfill a little while digging, especially at high tide which does has an effect even though we are a block and a half from the bay. But the Bogsy hole was impossible, splashing in my face with every drive of the digger. I will peck away at it on the next fence day. If I fail, it can wait until the water drains out of the swales.

The rest of the south fence days should be much lighter work than those heavy posts: installing 2x4s, figuring out how to deer proof the three sections that go through the midst of willow tangles, and moving the fence wire panels and one gate to the new fence. The two end gates can just be moveable wire panels for now.

Have I mentioned that we are going to gain about 800 feet of deer-proof garden? The deer will eat almost any plant if hungry enough. I’m quite excited. I did love the feeling of going through the gate from Bogsy Wood to willow grove, from mostly civilized to mostly wild. Crossing the bridge over the swale will still give a feeling of change even without a fence and a gate. And perhaps Frogland will be saved from development. While I will certainly give my all to saving the frogs, I will soon be poised to landscape in any way necessary to keep our feeling of tranquility and to provide an alternate home for the frogs on our own southern front.