Fences

We've had this section of fence that's been falling down for years.  (I really wish I was kidding about that.  But I'm not.)  So, I fixed it.

Fences make such rich metaphors, and we use them in all sorts of ways.   

My body and mind worked together on this metaphor of fence building -- as in: strong fences make good neighbors.  You know, boundaries.

I deconstructed the old fence and removed the wide variety of screws, nails, and various fasteners used over the years to try to hold it up. 

I assessed what I had to work with and moved forward.

I got out my shovel and made level ground on which to put my fence.

I used what I had available.  I didn't have any work gloves, so I used my gardening gloves to keep out the splinters.

The boards were weathered, but still sturdy. I replaced the supports.

I took it bit by bit, letting each step guide me to the next, based on intuition and common sense. What would make sense here?  What is needed?  What can I do today?

I asked for help finding the right hardware even though I didn't know what things were called.  Whether I looked foolish could not be considered.

I put it all together with a sturdy tool I borrowed from a friend.

Is it perfect?  Nope.
Could someone else have done a better job?  Maybe.
Could someone else have done it faster?  Probably.
Is it sturdy?  Yes.

It's what was needed, and I did it.