and mending fences. What's a man supposed to do on a bank holiday Monday? Why, diy of course. So after a trip to the shops - yawn - I travelled to the local diy store to pick up some stuff - I think that's the technical term.
And so, at 12:30 the construction began - well, no it didn't. I might have said this already so forgive me if you will, but a few weeks ago some of the nice, helpful lads that reside in my neighbourhood decided that burning down my back fence would be a bloody good idea and a great help to me [angry glare to camera].
Before I could start constructing I had some demolition to do first - where did I put the dynamite by the way? Just kidding. And before I could start the demolition I had to fight my way through the rather overgrown area at the back garden that is my massive wild rose. After about half an hour's action with the machete and many cuts to the hands and legs - from the thorns not the machete - I haven't really got a machete by the way - I appeared at the edge of my territory - or the back fence as some call it - or, rather more accurately, the location of where my once mighty barrier stood before the great fire.
Cutting to the chase, I banged a bit here, I banged a bit there - it's bloody good fun banging - the old sledge hammer, you should try it - and four hours from whence I began, my shiny new fence was complete. Only it isn't shinny on account that it's made from wood. And after all that I was so thoroughly knackered that I couldn't face training - oh well, always tomorrow...
Thought for the day: Don't look for the light at the end of the tunnel, go light it yourself.