8 Days Before Embarkation – Mending Fences

I was awakened this morning by the knock-knock-knock of a diesel engine at the top of the driveway. Oh, what a glorious sound.

That, my friend, is the sound of progress. It's a ship moving forward to ports-of-call far into the distance.

Or, in this case, it was Steve, the fencer, firing up the back hoe to prepare the land for fence posts. By the time we return home from vacation, the new 2 acre pasture will almost be complete.

While Steve cleared brush, Dean and I cleared paper. We went to the office today to finish rearranging desks and files, as well as tossing (shredding) 10 year old bank statements and other documents that had been taking up much needed storage space.

We returned home just in time to say good-bye to Steve who was going home for supper.

“Met your neighbour, today,” he drawled.

Our neighbour has complained – understandably - about our new dog's incessant barking when we aren't home.

“Not that neighbour,” Steve said.

“Another neighbour complained about the dog?” I was aghast. If this carried on, we'd be run off the acreage.

“Nope,” he said. “You know how we said your lot seems bigger than 5 acres? Well, that's because this here ain't your property.”

Oops. Seems we had the peg at the top of the lot figured correctly, but we were about 30 feet out on the bottom, helping ourselves to a healthy swath of the neighbour's land. Thankfully, we learned this before Steve actually started pounding posts down the hill, else we might be trying to mend fences instead of building them.