I got a call from our neighbour today to say that our fence had been hit by a car. Sure enough, when I got back, a good 18ft of our front fence had been smashed to pieces. I remembered just how much work we put into erecting this fence over the first summer we moved in, and to see it in splinters was really quite sad.

I reported it to the police, as it was technically a hit and run, although some of the neighbours had seen a young lad changing his tire next to the fence not long after some other neighbours had heard the crash, but nobody actually saw it happen.

Later that night a nervous teen knocked on our door and apologised for what, he explained, had been a genuine accident. The poor soul. He could barely get his words out. I was so pleased that he had come to face the music. Bless.

Labels: d.i.y., seeing_doing