One would never accuse me, nor confuse me of being handy--not even a little. I come from a line of just don't do it yourself--please don't even try. Years ago, a certain someone botched the changing of a light bulb in a hanging lamp so badly it led to an electrician's visit. So when I set out to fix the fence, the section that had blown down a few weeks back, I did so with caution and low expectations.
I assume only Liz's expectations were lower than mine. After three days of snowboarding in the past week I had assured her I would take a look at the fence tomorrow. Tomorrow was yesterday, Friday, and after grading papers all morning long, I was ready for a change of pace--even if it meant attempting to fix a fence.
The snow was coming down and I was a bit saddened to be fence mending instead of beginner terrain park riding. I hoisted the section of plastic, white picket fence up and rested it against the garage, half in half out. As I was attempting to screw in a plastic bracket to the standing portion of the fence, I accidentally depressed the garage door button and did not notice. I heard the garage closing, but was not concerned. Garage doors close and open--no big deal. After drilling the bracket in place, I noticed the portion of the fence now holding up the garage door. This is the way it goes, I thought, this is why I don't try to fix things, like my father I typically bow out so as not to make matters worse. After some good tugs and pulls I managed to free the fence from the door, or door from the fence, and set the portion of the fence in the slightly snow covered driveway.
The drill was sounding as if it were ready to give out at any moment. The Craftsman we had borrowed from Liz's mother (borrowed like a year ago--sorry Marianne) was chugging along. I was putting a lot of my 160 pounds into the drill, boring the final hole into the fence to allow a fourth place of contact. Feeling cautiously optimistic I raised the fence and managed to fit it into the brackets that were remaining--two were broken, one was as it was supposed to be, and the fourth was an L bracket I had bought to replace the piece that had broken completely.
Snow was now wafting all around me, the drill was putt-putt-puttering and I was bearing down, determined to drill the fourth and final screw into place. With that screw the great fence fix was complete.
Good work brother!
Posted by: Andre | February 27, 2010 at 05:07 PM
Seeing the mended fence was possibly the most impressed and surprised I have ever been in another human being.
Posted by: Elizabeth Moyer | February 28, 2010 at 10:41 AM
A Moyer that actually fixed something. You must have inherited that from Aunt Dianne side!
Posted by: debra moyer kequom | March 09, 2010 at 05:32 PM