Mending Fence

 Mending Fence

By Bobby Neal Winters

“Something there is that doesn’t like a wall,” is what Robert Frost wrote.  He said his neighbor quoted the old saying back to him that “good fences make good neighbors.”

During the winter, the fence on the northwest side of my property got broken.  Old Robert might suggest “Elves” as the culprit.  I wouldn’t eliminate that possibility completely, but having examined it, I would think that the microorganisms causing rot are more likely.  Could it be that they are both just different names for the same thing? I’ve never seen either; they’ve got that in common.

One fence post was broken off evenly with the ground and it was leaning severely to the east.  It was the direction of the lean and not the fact that it was broken by rot--or elves or fairies or pixies for that matter--that was the problem.  The fence forms one side of a narrow alleyway.  It is difficult to mow at the best times.  The fence leaning inward made that almost impossible.  

My first step in the repair was to take it apart. That was revealing.  I kept thinking that this is an angry fence.  There has been a war here.

The fence, which is about 40 feet long, consists of three different styles.  It is all wood, but the fence has three sections and each is different from both of the others.

The posts are of three different types: landscaping timbers, four-by-fours, and four by sixes.  The section nearest the street is supported by landscaping timbers and consists of vertical six-foot long one-by-threes which are pointed on the top end. Farthest from the street, the fence consists of horizontal one-by-tens mounted to the posts.  The only thing the two parts had in common was the boards were placed so close together that neither light nor air could penetrate.

The middle portion of the fence was the part that broke. I spent a couple of hours disassembling it. It was quality time spent with just me and my impact driver that I was using to take out the screws.  I was doing my best to reclaim the wood.  

And there was a lot of wood.  This portion of the fence had originally been like the part that was farthest from the street, i.e. horizontal one-by-tens. But at some point, it must have broken.  Whoever fixed it--and I think I know--did it by nailing one-by-sixes and one-by-tens to it in an alternating fashion which defies concise description, so I am going to let it go. It was heavy, but thick enough to stop a bullet.

The consequence of this was that all of the weight was on the east side, so when the four-by-four rotted even with the ground--damned elves or whatever--it fell east.

When I repair it, I am going to put boards on both sides so that it will be balanced.  This means I will need to stand in the neighbor’s yard.  So I went over and talked to my neighbor.

He is a renter, so he doesn’t care what I do, but I will be standing in his yard, so it is just good manners.  I explained what I would be doing, and he is fine.  I also told him that if his landlord wanted to pay for some of it, I would be okay with that, but I am not holding my breath.

I may be the first person to ever work on this ancient rampart to talk to the neighbor.  In each of the sections, the only thing they had in common--other than being made of wood--was that the fencing was only attached to one side of posts along the section. On one part it was attached to the west side, the other two to the east, but only one side.  Does it look like the dog’s dinner? Yes, yes it does.

Yesterday morning, I made the Home Despot [sic] run.  I got some new posts, new cross-timbers, and some quikrete.  My wife and five-year-old grandson helped me set the posts.

Concrete is magic.  It is mud and then it is rock.  My grandson was fascinated.  He thinks I am some sort of a mage to be able to work with the sacred concrete.  I have no plans to disabuse him of this notion.  I will let him believe it is magic; I will let him think I am a magician; I will teach him how to do it as well, so he can also be a magician.

It is the Way.

My plan today when this is written is to make my way again to the HD folks, who are becoming my second family, and get one-by-sixes sufficient for the purpose of fixing the fence.  It will still be a fence in three parts, but my part will have two sides.

The war ends with me.

Bobby Winters, a native of Harden City, Oklahoma, blogs at redneckmath.blogspot.com and okieinexile.blogspot.com. He invites you to “like'' the National Association of Lawn Mowers on Facebook. Search for him by name on YouTube. )