Wire and Other Evils

Sometimes I question my sanity when I decided to become a farmer. I spend entirely too much time performing tasks that are not on my scheduled agenda and am frustrated at the end of the day because I feel like I haven't accomplished anything. I've actually done a lot, but nothing that was on my list.

I hate wire. Wire hates me. Any kind of wire - baling, barbed, chicken. It seems to recognize that I feel all thumbs when I'm handling it and it springs at me when I'm least expecting it. What makes it worse is that I can't for the life of me find a pair of work gloves that fit me. I have several pairs that are much too big and though I usually start a project wearing them, I always throw them off in frustration. It's impossible to work with gloves whose fingers are 1" longer than mine, so I give up on them and work with my bare hands. You can tell by looking at them that the wire won.

In the last few weeks I've put in many hours trying to secure the pasture fences in order to keep the sheep and goats where they belong. Not only do I have to contend with animals that want to help (or at least know exactly what I'm doing), but Tally and Peace seem to be able to get through the tightest security. They're very social and only want to get out so they can come to the house to visit, but I'm not crazy about seeing a goat gazing at me through the window of the kitchen door, her hooves pawing at the glass. Peace, especially, is the world's greatest escape artist and apparently spends all day thinking up new ways to get out.

We seem to have mutant chickens that are capable of leaping tall buildings in a single bound (or fences, as it were). Olin and Billy spent the better part of a week raising the height of the garden fence to a towering 8 feet in hopes of preventing the chickens from getting in and destroying our precious little plantlings. It seemed impenetrable. But last night I found my newly planted, beautifully mulched herb garden had been scratched up and many plants shredded. This will not do! Drastic measures are required here.

Early this morning I gathered my tools and went out to patch the only spot that can possibly be a leak - the gate. The idea seemed simple: wire some chicken wire to the existing gate, closing up holes in the fencing and increasing the height to over 6 feet. I always underestimate the evil intentions of wire and wound up spending 2 hours fighting with a 3 foot piece of chicken wire. Clearly it should have been no match for an intelligent human being like me. But the darn stuff kept wrapping around me and biting me till I was torn and bleeding and ready to scream. I prevailed. It was a trying job, but I accomplished what I set out to - reinforcing the gate with chicken wire and PVC pipe. It actually opens and closes fairly well and I dare any chicken to breach it! We'll see if it keeps the cats out as well.