FENCE ME IN BABY!

There is still no formal plan. Ian doesn’t believe me when I tell him that wandering around the garden deep in thought is my way of being productive. He should know that I can’t read a map let alone draft one, but all that thinking does result in an epiphany of sorts.

The garden bed on the left hand side of the driveway is a complete eyesore. Not only does it have weeds almost as tall as me, it is the first area on view when you drive into the garden.

 

We decide it has to go. (that is 90% me, 10% Ian)

Now I’ve always wanted a ranch style fence it (blame an addiction to Dallas years ago), so, after only a little negotiation, we agree to clear the weeds, erect my longed for fence and replace the garden bed with grass.

We hire a bobcat to clear the site (cheating I know but I was afraid of what we might find in there…)

 

 

Then we put up the fence.

  

 
A couple of coats of white paint courtesy of Ian’s brother (he’s a professional painter and loves painting in his spare time) and I can almost imagine myself lounging at Southfork.
The finishing touch is to buy some turf from our local supplier – not the expensive stuff, we figure we’ll nurture it like crazy and hope for the best. And we lay it ourselves – a true test for any relationship.

I’m pleased to say we’re still together. Hard work? Absolutely, but the front garden finally looks semi respectable. And, more importantly, it’s given us our starting point.  Now we have the motivation to plough on. More than worth the sore back, cracked heels and ruined manicure.