My fence has been erected!!!

It was a nice day, and Short Tony was in his garden.

“Do you fancy,” I offered, “giving me a hand to do the fence? I couldn’t really do it on Wednesday, what with the hangover and vomiting and stuff.”

100000 years ago, I’d knocked down the old rotten fence and bought a shiny new one with which to replace it. It was one of those easy fence systems that go up in the blink of an eye.

We commenced our building work in the midday sun.

I’m not sure why we bother to have a fence between our gardens. There’s a great big gate in it, anyway. I think it’s perhaps to keep Short Tony’s smelly dog at bay. Short Tony owns the smelliest dog in the entire world. It honks. He claims that it used to be a guide dog, but I suspect that it was really bred by scientists at Porton Down.

By about three o’clock we had erected two fence panels. That was two hours to do the erecting, and one hour standing back from it, admiring our handiwork. I had also sneakily gained around two inches of garden.

Like any fencing professionals, we ensured the panels were slightly off the ground in order to prevent rot. As the man in charge of judging this I had some difficult calls to make: not such a big gap as to allow smelly chemical weapon dog through, but enough so that I could lay a trail of carrots round from the back and get rid of some rabbits.

The LTLP arrived home at 6:45. “That looks great!” she enthused, admiring our four completed panels.

By the time we finished it was getting cold and dark, and continental drift had gained me another two inches of garden. As I write, it is still standing, which is an achievement in anybody’s book.

“Fancy a pint?” I asked.

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