At the risk of seeming like a mutual admiration society, I’m reblogging Thom’s story. He wrote it in response to one of my photos. The image, as you can see, caught his eye and imagination, just as it continues to catch mine, so I suggested he wrote something. And in no time, he did. Thom writes some very fine flash fiction over at his place. And I love this current story, the reel of wire spooling out across the land under the careful eye and hand of Buddy. I’m going to look for him later. Thank you, Thom. Over to you:
Kudos and applause for Tish Farrell whose generosity and photo made this post possible.
Buddy is a fence guy. He wears a black Stetson, leather chaps over denim jeans, a leather coat (or a vest in the Summer) covers a long sleeved blue work shirt and his heavy gloves are either on his hands or tucked into his belt. This is his uniform.
When I first met him, a number of years ago, he was working as an independent contractor in Lincoln County New Mexico. Buddy would take down old barbed wire and replace it with new. The life span of barbed wire is approximately 80 years. Sometimes more, sometimes less, depending on the climate where the fence is located.
Buddy told me that he “figgered” In Lincoln County a fence was “prob’ly” good for 100 – 120 years. That’s a pretty good Return on Investment, there. When Buddy restrung…
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