For instance, I put this gate up yesterday:
Looks OK from a distance. A bit of a gap on the right. But let me... No, I won't even begin to tell you how much hassle I had with these hinges:
So today I went back with these hinges:
And had a much, much easier and more satisfying time:
The real beauty of it is, I know the next gate'll be even better.
2 comments:
I started building a fence at the allotment the other day. We got a 'weed notice' from the council as they were claiming that we didn't have the appropriate 75% of our plot cultivated. We baulked at this very suggestion and invited them to go and take a look again. It's a good job that we had spent some time up there recently and that, as a result, there was lots of newly turned earth, new tiered bed areas, raised beds and intriguing wooden labels denoting areas of imminent sproutings. We have suggested politely that they might want to take a look at the neighbouring abandoned plot whose bind weed and brambles cause us to take evasive action every time we visit - oh, and to fix the ruddy great big hole someone has cut into the wire fencing behind the apple trees at the top of our plot that denotes end of allotments and beginning of nature reserve. Some wire-clipper toting thief has decided our plot is a target and has destroyed Bean's playhouse in an attempt to pull it through the fence. Bean says she's too old for playhouses (prefers shinning up apple trees) but that's beside the point.
I'll take a picture of my fence. It's not got hinges but I made it and therefore am immensely proud. Maybe I should start writing my own blog . . . .
Anyway. I'll stop short of drawing parallels between our recent dealings with 'The Man' vs our allotment and your situation. But we're both wrangling over land and both constructing wooden things. . . . . freaky, huh?!±
Oh, and I'm still waiting to hear about your job . . . .
Post a Comment