Do fence me in

Yes, yes, I know. Everyone has been wondering (all five of you) when the hell I was going to get the gardening blog going again. Well, here it is: the starter entry for 2016. 

First disappointment of the year is the discovery, when Irmani and I return to Gabriola from wanky Whistler, that the bamboo fence I erected last year to protect the wisteria from deer has collapsed in a wind storm. Crawl around the back to see if there is anything I can do about this. The answer is no. Not a chance. This requires Mr Fixit.

I ring Cec, explain my problem. He comes round to have a look. Bless him, he does not look at the fence, look at me and say, “What a stupid way to try to make a fence.” What he does say (and what I’ve already figured out) is that the only way this thing I have optimistically been referring to as a fence can actually be a fence is by hammering in at least two more fence posts at the back.

I go to Arbutus, purchase fence posts.

This morning Cec comes back with his scaffold, sledge hammer and a bag of plastic ties. We set to work. An hour later, not only is the fence repaired, but it is standing up a damn sight straighter than it was when I erected it last summer.

It is no longer likely that a slight breeze (or wisteria seeking Bambo) could knock it over again.

Despite all evidence to the contrary, I am not a complete mug, so I pick up a third fence post at Arbutus. I figure, if a very kind and helpful man with a sledge hammer is coming around to hammer in fence posts, I might was well get another post on the side of the garden where the wire is leaning so far forward (or back, depending on how I position it) a half way intelligent deer could actually probably step over it.

It may not be immediately obvious from this photo, but, yes, that is a new fence post in the middle.

What should be immediately obvious is that this bed has been dug over – and fertilised – and is now ready for peas and other seed. (In case you’re wondering, the rolled up chicken wire is an attempt to discourage Stella and Roxy from using the freshly dug earth as a giant litter box.)

More anon. No, really.

Barn door

So, after Bambo (for the second year in a row) managed to pick his way through the undergrowth to nibble all the leaves from the wisteria weaving through the back fence, I finally do something to prevent future snacking. 

After measuring the fence (9½ feet from fence post to fence post and fence post to tree), I head to the garden shop, which I know sells bamboo screens. I check the measurements for the screens: two metres by three metres. Bollocks. Metric conversion. What does this mean? Go inside to use a calculator, knowing that one metre equals 39 inches. So, 39 times 3 divided by 12 equals 9.75 feet. Hurrah! Purchase two screens and head home.

Spend some time crawling around behind the fence, clipping branches and clearing undergrowth, then start unrolling screens. Two hours later – ta da!

I have a bamboo screen protector for wisteria and clematis leaves.

Here we have it from another angle.

No, your eyes (assuming you can see it) do not deceive you. It is very definitely leaning inwards on the right hand side, as does the fence. I don’t think the weight of the screen is sufficient to actually topple the fence, but I think I might ask Mr Fixit Cec if he has any ideas about strengthening it.

In the meantime, despite the inward leaning, it actually does look rather splendid.

As Howard would say: Job done.