Where the concrete riser stopped and the dark-brown old fence began between Mike's and our houses |
It's interesting to see how two houses built next to each other can have such different yards, with ours focusing on an abundance of fruit trees against Mike's neatly-manicured lawn with ornamental flowers and decorative bushes--"He is all pine and I am apple orchard."
Mike's and Tracey's yard, exposed with the shared fence down, that we see through our rain-smattered bedroom window |
Our neighbor's gardener was commissioned to swap out the old fence with a new one, and his brother-in-law worked on the concrete riser wall. Scheduling in two contractors was also a balancing act as one had to come tear down the fence before the concrete wall was put in and set to dry, then come back to put up the new fence.
Step 1: Tear-down of old wood fence and digging the trench for the concrete riser wall |
Step 2: Adding wood beams to level out the trench at different segments |
Step 3: First layer of concrete blocks that make up the wall |
Step 4: Complete riser wall and braces for the heavier fence posts |
Step 5: New fence goes up |
Mike, this one's for you.
MENDING WALL
Robert FrostSomething there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun,
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
"Stay where you are until our backs are turned!"
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of out-door game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, "Good fences make good neighbors."
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
"Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it
Where there are cows?
But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down." I could say "Elves" to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me--
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, "Good fences make good neighbors."