Not That Sort Of Fencing!

 

Back in the 80s, Liz, Steph and I used to sit together after school and watch Dogtanian and the Three Muskehounds. Later I watched Tom Burke, Peter Capaldi and others in the BBC series "The Musketeers". There is something fascinating about watching swordplay, the movements almost balletic. I once had a boyfriend who was keen on fencing.

But I digress - the problem here at Cornerstones is the other sort of fencing - the stuff round our property. In February 2020, a month before lockdown, our SIL Gary stayed here as he had business in Norwich, and reported that the back fences had suffered in the high winds. By the time we got here a week later, they were in a worse state. We planned to sort it over Easter. But then Covid...

...We will sort it when we retire, we said. Then things went awry with our planning, and only now is the work about to start. In that time the tenants on one side have changed [twice] and the neighbour the other side is no longer here, and her bungalow has just gone on the market. 

Early Tuesday morning, as I sat in bed drinking tea and reading blogs, I heard a vehicle outside. Is that the bin men already? I mused.

No,it was the bloke with all the fence panels, posts and gravel boards. He was very adept at managing his crane and depositing the materials alongside the raised bed. I stood in my dressing gown, monitoring the process. I am hoping that the work goes smoothly, and that the weather is kind.

We've just discovered that the oil tank is not healthy. We know it is 14 years old [because of this ] and they have a life expectancy of about 15 years. So that will be the next bit of property maintenance to get sorted. 

The English language is fascinating - fencing can mean to fight with swords, or the wooden boundary round a property. And tanking can mean to fail completely, to apply a waterproof membrane to a structure, or to deliberately lose a sports match. 

My fencing was tanking, so I am getting it replaced!