You know what they say about good fences...

With Creel, our new Greyhound, moving in October 24th, there was some serious, serious fencing that needed to be done last weekend. I think Mother Nature knows when you're dog-less. She decides if any winds are going to blow down any trees, it's going to happen at your place and they're going to fall on your fences. We must've spent 48 out of 36 hours last weekend doing something I detest -- fencing. Grrrr...

Let's get started. 330 feet of 4 foot, light duty fence -- check. A bundle of 6 foot long medium duty steel T-posts -- check. New Holland tractor and hubby -- check and double check.

And then there's the supervisory crew.



Raider, did you forget you pulled duty this weekend? Look sharp! (Ugh, "management"!)



The work begins. Hubby man-handles the fencing into the tractor bucket, the bundle writhing like a silver snake who won't be contained.



Holy crap! That silver monster in the bucket is purdy scary looking!





Leave it to Pete to put them all in their places, "Hey ya girly-men, don't you know a roll of fence when you see it? Geesh!"



So much for good neighbors, huh?