Fences Make Good Neighbors

Thank you, Robert Frost!
 

This picture was taken about ten years ago at the fenceline in our backyard, overlooking the pasture.  We knew when we bougth our house in 1999 that the Green Acres view wouldn't last forever. 

We're grateful for the years we had with grazing sheep, calves born just the other side of the fence, and all of the peacefulness of the countryside smack dab in the middle of town.  Drew loved slipping off to the creek and I loved not having to worry about curtains on the windows overlooking the back verandah.  Hope loved the bull, and he was fascinated by her.  The only problem we had was the year Dewey started the tomato garden and the cows kept reaching over the wire fence to nibble the plant tops.  He added a little extra chicken wire, problem solved.

Well, you know the saying:  all good things....

Here's the view we've had for the past couple of months: 

oy vey!  Dozers, and tractors, and mud, oh my!  Dewey keeps reminding me to look on the bright side:  had they started in the spring and run into the summer, we'd be coated in dust.  True, I guess. 

Well, you can't fight progress (or City Hall, let me just tell you).  And desperate times call for desperate measures, so here you go: 

While we were visiting Sal and Al in Kentucky over New Year's, we had a Good Neighbor installed.  It wasn't really what I wanted for Christmas, but I'm getting used to it, and it has helped with both privacy and a sense of security.  The backhoe driver is no longer waving to me as I load up my car for work in the mornings, and it makes for a nice place to stash the ginormous trash can the city issued along with the recycling bin.

In November we bought a fig tree from the fundraiser at the middle school where Hope teaches, and Daddy said we needed to plant it "up against" something so its branches would be protected from the wind and it would bear more fruit.  Guess we got that covered now.  That's it in the pot in the foreground, out for a little sun next to the blueberry bushes, the satsuma twig, uh tree, and the Meyer lemon bush.  As soon as we get past the danger of the last hard freeze, probably some time between Mardi Gras and Good Friday, we'll pick a sunny patch along the Neighbor, dig a hole to put it in, step back and watch Mother Nature do her thing. 

Picking fresh fruit from your backyard is just grand, even if the farm animals aren't there in the background providing the added ambiance.  Right now I'd settle for an absence of heavy earth-moving equipment.  All in good time, I'm sure. 

Y'all hang in there, spring's a comin! 

Angela