Don’t Fence Me In

image imageDaddy was an equal opportunity employer, not that I was grateful. I got to work right alongside him and my brother.  He had forty acres to fence.  That’s a mile of fence. He enlisted his free help, Bill and me. He cleared the right of  way.   We came in really handy for piling the brush and loading  the posts he’d made from the timber. After he dug the post holes with an augur behind his tractor,  we plodded along behind the trailer dropping posts in the holes,

i was totally surprised at the generous offer  he made once all the posts were dropped and we surveued the crooked mile of posts.  “I’ll give you a mickel apiece for every post you set and tamp.  I did a quick calculation.  That would only be about twenty-six dollars to split for the whole miserable job. It didn’t take either us long to turn down that opportunity.

He was ready for us.  Okay, then do it for nothing.  I want it finished this week so we can start stringing wire Saturday.  It was finished.  Saturday morning we were out there with him stretching wire.  I didn’t like that a bit better.


36 thoughts on “Don’t Fence Me In

  1. That’s exactly what my daddy would have done. It’s those old southern men! Most I ever met were like that. Assholes. I love the south and it’s traditions but there are certain characteristics I could do without.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Oh boy did he pull a fast one on you!! Bet your mouth-dropped open when he followed up with, well then do it for nothing…how quick did you want to say ok a nickel it is!! Lol.. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  3. My best friend from school would often take me to her uncle’s (I think it was somewhere in the vicinity of a thousand acres) sheep property during the long school break. I recall her Uncle and his wife discussing their budget in order to buy replacement barbed wire for some of the boundaries as the kangaroos had them down. I loved the country life and no matter how much I ate (my plate would be mounded with food), I would come home as skinny as ever.
    A great nostalgic post!


  4. Now, you’re talking. That’s an area of expertise for me. I built several fences for my Dad–have scars from the barbed wire to show for it. Except, we dug the holes with a post hole digger. Yes, I earned my PHD (post hole digger). I’m sure you know what a fence stretcher is. There should have been a Cheap Labor Day that all fathers celebrated. I may just post about it.


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