How hard can it be?

Next time I say, "I'm going to do x; how hard can it be?" please say to me, "Remember the fence!"

Buying a fence for £1 at a time when Husband wasn't at his healthiest, with the utter conviction, "I can put it up myself," worked well in theory. Doing it is a little harder than I anticipated.

I planned to plant my roses today but Husband wanted to clear a tree trunk first so suggested I dig holes for the fence-posts instead. "They don't have to be too deep or too wide," he said.

I dug one and he came and looked at it. "That's not deep enough and needs to be wider."

Remember how pleased I was when I discovered the fence was a perfect fit for the gap? Well, I hadn't allowed for the fence-posts. These have taken me into undergrowth territory. 

To be fair, the soil there is very good, once you get rid of the roots and the cache of shells.

Nah, I'm sure they're really just candles or something . . .

Then it was time to shower and meet Daughter and Daughter-in-law for lunch. We went to Boo's in Mumbles and I had cause to walk through some little back lanes, right past the rear of my old home. It now looks like this.

The yellow-walled bit is where my bedroom was and the space underneath it was the main living room that we called the kitchen. It all looks so much smaller now than it felt then. I just hope they finally finish it. Work has been stalled for months again.

And spotted - or rather went out of my way to see - two more castles.

Funky Welsh blanket

Forever Friends