The fucking gate is jamming again and I can't get out.
For some strange reason that I can't quite fathom, people seem to be able to get in. Leastwise the postman got me out of bed at the ungodly hour of eleven this morning and he never mentioned anything about gates jamming. Maybe he was just overawed and struck dumb in admiration of the naked figure that stood before him?
I originally thought it was just the wood expanding but it has been getting progressively worse so that any time I want to take the car out means I have a huge fight on my hands getting the fucking gates open first.
I'm ashamed to say I may even occasionally mutter a rude word.
I have discovered what's wrong, which I suppose is something.
The gates hang off a lovely pair of 8" by 8" hardwood pillars. One of the pillars has started to shift. It has only moved a minute fraction of an inch but as anyone who any basic knowledge of trigonometry, geometry or even the principle of the lever will tell you – a minute fraction of an inch at the base of a pillar translates to considerably more at the far end of the lever, namely where the gates meet.
My problem now is that I don't know what to do about it.
If the pillar had moved by a decent amount I could push it back and shove a spadefull of concrete into the crack, but right now there isn't enough room to even slide in a sliver of cardboard.
I could dig the whole fucking lot up and rebury it with a bigger foundation but that sounds like an awful lot of hard work, and I'm allergic to that.
I could remove the gate altogether but then the local dogs would just come in and shit all over the place, and it's bad enough with Penny laying her little land-mines all over the front drive.
Luckily I have a fair stock of provisions, tobacco and whiskey. If it looks like I'm running short of anything I can always heave Herself over the fence and she can walk to the village.
I don't know how the pub will manage without me though.