The guys showed up to build our fence. Tuesday morning, 9AM sharp. Three days of work and they’ll still be at it for another two. At least. What delayed the enterprise from the first discussion way back in September 2018 will steal it away again for tomorrow, Friday. A short hiatus skipping through the weekend for the guys to start again fresh and finish… The… Job.
Never thought infrastructure could be so wrought. Nerve-racking. Ups the blood pressure. I had engenuously imagined… hole post cement, hole post cement, hole post cement, string mesh, string mesh, string mesh, done, go home. Nope.
The first shock of my error in favour of ignorance came during a tour of inspection mid-stream Tuesday afternoon. The fruits of You’s and my landscaping labors, lo’ those ten years ago, to create a high & mighty privacy barrier from the greater Codiponte community at large… we’re surrounded, you know… had been bushwhacked… cleanly & efficiently accomplished, as it was… for proper elbow room to lay the fencing. Holy Mother of… one just cannot do, apparently, all the measuring, balancing, digging, digging, digging, cementing for posting, posting, posting an army of Tuscan green metal stakes from hither of our house, il Poggiolo, to the yonder of the legnaia. I felt faint. Nauseous. Had to brace myself by grabbing a cypress for support. I remained mute. Tried to smile. Always helps to cover the facial crinkle of doubt and fear. Big Time. What is this going to cost me?
The second bit of stomach wrenching misunderstanding came yesterday when the Chief Guy… truly and honestly a nobleman of gardening & agricultural expertise… explained that, in order in insure the stakes stay staked, angled supports… longer stakes, naturally, and if any of you have ever studied Geometry, a deplorable yet, fundamental area of knowledge, you’d instantly see the reason why… have to go in between that army. What? Really? What is this going to cost me? I wanted my Mommy. I breathed instead. Then resorted to God. Near & dear Human Beings were not so kindly disposed.
The third item was: I kindly sent an FYI to Dr. You a focused medley of photos to show him the fence work in progress. Obliquely asking for Moral Support too. No. A firestorm. A stun and awe firestorm. Telephone calls. Many, many telephone calls. From You’s hospital. HE HATED THE FENCE!!! Oh? It’s all cemented. Spostali in fretta prima che si asciughi il cemento! Too late. Set forever. I do not know nor do I care to ever know what the man was thinking, conjuring up in his funny little & bumpy princely doctor’s head but, to think the fence would be artfully slipped in between those ghastly prickly plants, for instance, until Kingdom Come… or would it be Came?… with those funny little orange berries on them was… well… let me see? What would it be? Oh, yes… INSANE!!! Costly too. All I could do was hang-up. The network coverage was silent for the next 24. That stunt saved me from posing The Question… What is this going to cost me?
Fourthly, and most of this will have to wait until Monday, is for the guys to string the Tuscan green wire mesh… so cleverly color co-ordinated with that of the stakes… from stake to stake to stake, and then, like a violin’s strings, tighten the entire length until it cries Uncle!!! I will resort to infrastructure rehab from pro-secco abuse. What is this going to cost me? will fade into and disappear into my drunken stupor. I hope.
P.S. The Dog are in for a Big Surprise. More pro-secco, please?