Graham’s fence is no longer leaning into my garden.
This is a development worth recording because Graham has spent most of the summer explaining that it is technically my fence, while I have spent most of the summer pointing out that it is technically leaning from his side.
We settled the matter yesterday using the traditional English method of refusing to discuss ownership while repairing it together.
The job should have taken an hour. It took nearly three, partly because the old post had rotted below ground and partly because Graham owns a large number of tools while somehow never possessing the particular tool required for the task in front of him.
He borrowed my socket set, denied borrowing my socket set while holding it, and then told me my drill battery was flat as if this represented a personal failing.
I have lived near Graham long enough that most of our conversations start halfway through. We know when the other is away because the bins do not move. We know which parcels to accept. I know he used to work shifts because he still wakes absurdly early, although I could not tell you precisely what he did without asking him.
That is probably true of quite a lot of neighbours. Familiarity is not the same as knowing somebody.
Anyway, the fence is upright. Graham says the new post will outlast both of us, which is an unnecessarily competitive attitude towards timber.
My socket set has not yet been returned.