Fencing with my father

Yesterday my father asked me to give him a hand with a task he was doing at my Auntie’s in a neighbouring town.  While we had plans to go out Cathy agreed with me that I should pop along to help. 

I was especially pleased to be asked, as my father doesn’t usually call on my help; this is mainly to do with the fact that my hands have a mind of their own when it comes to practical tasks, the mind is willing but the flesh is weak.  I might be able to work out what needs to be done, the materials needed, tolerances to be kept within and even the physics involved, but my hands do not follow what my brain suggests. 

Admittedly I was probably third choice but I was happy all the same.  The task in hand was to replace a fencing panel and post which had rotted away.  Not a complicated task by any means but definitely a two man effort, given the holding and lifting into place involved. 

The job went smoothly, all due to my father’s experience and handy tips, such as drill a very slender hole to give the fixings a path and prevent splitting the thinner wood. 

It was a very satisfying hour or so, not for the muscle aching feeling of a job well done, (such as after a long day on the farm) but for the chance to work alongside my father, the greatest man I know.