Three days ago, our sheep broke through the mesh fence in the back pasture, and the sheep did some trimming of our neighbor’s lawn.

We spent  Saturday morning getting material for a new chicken/turkey wire mesh fence with two-inch squares.

(First hours. Bush, rocks, thorns, bugs.)

Maria wanted to repair the fence herself in the time-honored custom of real farmers whose animals inevitably get out in search of greener grass.

When she wants to do something, it gets done well.

(Our friend Ed Gulley said he never called fence professionals in his nearly 40 years of farming. Maria feels the same way.)

(Maria is working. Profile in black and white. Taken from a thorny, buggy bush.)

I helped as much as I could – we shopped together for the new fence material and planned together, and I ferried food and water back and forth all day.

Maria was at it for nearly six hours, unrolling the mesh, stapling the fence to the wood posts, and tying it securely to the bars and trees with wires. She did an excellent job crawling through thorny bushes, fighting off bugs, claiming on rocks, and through heavy underbrush.

I took on the task of documenting the day.  It’s what I do.

She is nearly finished, with about 20 feet to go. She needs more wiring, and in the meantime, the back pasture is closed off securely.

(She has a few yards to go on either end. It won’t take long, she says. I looked at her work. No sheep is getting through it.)

I took photos from time to time. Our rule about photographing one another is that it’s okay to take a picture any time, but neither of us likes or wants to pose.

When I wasn’t there, which was most of the time (I went to the gym, shopped, read, blogged, did the dishes, took pictures, got the sheep to graze on our secure two pastures, and prepared dinner, which was broiled scallops with wheat couscous.

(Like the best Labs, Zinnia is a philosopher, she loves to sit and muse about the world.)

I left Zinnia with Maria to keep her company. Fate was hanging around the sheep, as usual. Zinnia sat by Maria’s side all day, and when she got hot, she went down to the pond and jumped in.

It was pretty great; I am proud of my cooking these days.

(Late afternoon. I called Maria on the cell to suggest calling it a day, but she was on the way home. She said her fingers were numb from wiring the mesh to the posts.)

Maria has extraordinary energy. The sun was intense, and she got some sunburn on her neck; she didn’t take a break or slow down until the wire ran out. I did bring water and an apple, and she paused for a few minutes to drink and eat the apple.

She says she’s nearly done and will finish the 200-foot fence repair during the week.

Tomorrow is a regular workday for both of us and our vacation seems like a long time off. Maria wrote a great piece about her obsession with tidal pools on her blog early this morning. You can see it here.

Maria’s working on a quilt, and I’m writing on the blog and going to Saratoga to see my surgical podiatrist about getting another orthotic for my shoes. My foot is doing quite well.

(Fate checking in. The broken fence is on the northernest corner of the farm, several acres away from the Pole Barn. Fencing is a nightmare because of the rocks, bushes, undergrowth, and  slant.)

I think we will be going to bed early tonight; I had a rigorous workout at the gym and walked back and forth to the far pasture in the sun a half dozen times. I’m just about done.