12 February 2016 (Friday) - Fence, Poker

Over brekkie I saw a new geocahe had gone live in Lenham. That rather suited me as today waas a geo-calendar day. I resisted the temptation to go chase the First to Find; instead I took "Furry Face TM" for a walk found the park.
As we walked I noticed that white heron has flying around again. I've not seen it for a while. There were also blue tits in the trees. There's been a lot of those about lately. My dog was rather well behaved this morning; not getting into any trouble at all. That made for a pleasent change.

WIth dog walked I drove up to Lenham to get my calendar cache. It was an easy find, and I had been right not to go chasing the First to Find. Those who actively hunt FTFs had been there before I'd even seen the email about it.
I then made my way back to Ashford. As I came round the tank roundabout some twit in a Volvo XC90 (who had been in the wrong lane) cut me up then did an emergency stop, got out of his car and started threatening me for supposedly insulting him. As he got back to his car I photographed his number plate (just in case). He drove off and I followed as I wanted to go down Chart Road anyway. At the first roundabout we reached he made a point of doing a complete circuit so he was then behind me and he then followed me at a distance of a few inches.
He eventually lost interest and drove off in the direction of Clockhouse. I know his registration number; I shall give it a few days then go look for his car and post a dog turd through his letterbox.

I then collected "My Boy TM" and we went round to Brookfield cafe for second brekkie. I've not been there for a while; I'd heard the place had gone downhil. But today's fry-up was rather good.

We then made a start in the back garden. Two fence panels had blown down. On closer inspection two panels had been blown to destruction and the post between the two had snapped. We then consulted the nice lady next door to get her input before we ploughed on. She said she was of the opinion that it was our fence. I thought it was our fence. I *hoped* it was hers, but I thought it was ours. She said she was happy for us to fix it however we saw fit. I'm sure she will regret giving us carte-blanch in that way...

The nice lady went indoors and we reviewed the fence that I had now inherited. Two panels were in fragments. Another had been bodged together some time ago by the last people who lived next door. And five others looked as though they would fall apart if anyone was to fart in their general direction.

So we got the wreckage of the broken bits of into the car (that took some doing) and took it all to the tip. We then came back via B&Q where we priced up the job in hand. I was very surprised to find that it will cost me about a third of whhat I'd been expecting to have to pay. But rather than rushing the job we planned it out (wasn't my idea!). We thought we'd affix a temporary dog-proofing for now (to keep "Furry Face TM" contained) and do the proper fix when we had time to do so. Pausing only briefly to get some dog-proofing and a sexy green hammer (with thirty five per cent extra) we then returned to the back garden fence.

We still had a couple of hours spare, and the obvious first job was to remove the concrete in which the broken fence post had been embedded. So we dug. And dug. And heaved and strained. "My Boy TM" managed to get a rather serious cut to his hand and I've done something to my back. But after two hours we have exposed a lump of concrete which is about a foot square by about two foot deep. We can rock it, but we can't lift it.
With time running out we put a plank of wood over the hole in the ground and put some temporary fencing across the hole in the fence. I then drove "My Boy TM" home.
"Daddies Little Angel TM" currently has my drill. I've told her I shall need it back on Monday so's we can use it to drill the concrete. "My Boy TM" says that if we drill it to b*ggery we can then twat it to destruction with my sexy new hammer. I'm lucky in having a son who understands all the technical jargon.

As I'd messed around digging I'd got rather grubby so I popped my dirty clothes in the washing machine. I can't have done a very good job of emptying my pockets because when the machine finished I flooded the kitchen. I then messed around with towels whilst extracting several dog poo bags from the washing machine's filter.

I watched some drivel on the telly, and then went round to Steve and Sarah's. A bit of Chinese, then an evening spent playing cards. You can't beat a bit of poker...

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