The Fence Post

You Go Floyd, You Got _____!

In the scorching Texas heat of the summer of 1980, Susan, Cathy, and Della embarked on a journey across the expansive state in their vintage green 1970 Ford Torino. They traversed endless stretches of arid land, punctuated by tumbleweeds, cacti, and wire fencing until fate intervened with a sputtering engine and the dreaded realization that their beloved car had met its demise in the middle of nowhere.

After an agonizing hour of waiting, a benevolent truck driver finally halted to offer assistance. "Need some help, ladies?" he asked with a Texan drawl.

"Help?" exclaimed Cathy incredulously. "Do we look like we're out here for a picnic? Please, we're desperate!"

The driver, Ralph, graciously offered them a ride to the nearest town, where they were deposited at the sole auto repair shop within a fifty-mile radius. With a tip of his hat and a cheerful grin, Ralph bid them farewell and drove off into the horizon.

Their hopes momentarily lifted, only to be dashed when Fred, the mechanic, delivered the grim news after examining the Torino's engine. Wiping sweat from his brow, he confessed that the required part was nowhere to be found.

“Nope. I can’t help you.”

“Why not?” asked Susan. “

It needs a part I don’t have, said Fred.

“Well, can’t you get it?”

“No, ma’am, I can’t get it.”

“What do you mean you can’t get it?”

“That’s right, I can’t get the part.”

“You have to get the part! We have to get back to Massachusetts.”

There were two other mechanics tuned into the conversation. They looked at each other in surprise at such bossy women. After some hemming and hawing, Fred said, “You go, Floyd, you got teeth!”

With that, their fate rested on Floyd's shoulders as he embarked on a quest to procure the elusive part, their hopes for a swift return to Massachusetts hanging in the balance.

As Floyd set off on his mission, Susan, Cathy, and Della exchanged nervous glances, their optimism tinged with a hint of doubt. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, Susan couldn't help but reflect on her grandmother's wise words: "Sometimes we have to sink our teeth into something to get things done."

They awaited Floyd's return with newfound determination, hoping his tenacity would be the key to their salvation. In the vast expanse of the Texas desert, where challenges loomed as large as the horizon, grit and resilience would ultimately see them through.

You can sink your teeth into your next fencing project–even though you may not need enough wire to cope with the “vast expanse of Texas”–here: https://louispage.com

Warm regards,

Debbie Page

CEO, Louis E. Page Inc–Woman-owned business and Family-owned since 1893. (A genuine 131 years owned and run by our family)

I heard the trucks coming up the hill…

Shortly after we moved from Georgia to our new home in Exeter, New Hampshire, my 16-year-old son asked me if he could burn the brush he had cut down. “Sure, honey, that’s fine,” I answered. And didn’t give it another thought, until…

I was babysitting for Gavin, the three-year-old neighbor, and we were busy weeding the front flower garden. It was getting close to dinner time, so we went inside to put the chicken in the oven. Market Basket had a special on chicken legs, and I had bought a ten-pound bag. As I cut open the bag, the stench escaped. Oh, my gosh!! The smell was awful. Ten pounds of spoiled chicken!

What do you do with ten pounds of rotten chicken? Oh, I’ll toss the whole thing on the fire. We walked out the back door to the roaring fire and threw the chicken on top. Then, back out to the front yard to dig in the dirt.

It was a hot, sweaty kind of day. Barefoot and dirty, we continued to weed. Then we heard sirens, and Gavin became hysterical! He was terrified of sirens. I assured him that they weren’t coming here, and then they stopped, so he calmed down. Then I heard the powerful engines and knew they were coming up the hill. I ran into the house, caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and saw my dirty, sweaty face. Out the back door and onto the deck, I spotted a bucket full of water. I picked it up and yelled to David, “Throw this on the fire! The fire trucks are coming!”

I ran back into the house with a crying Gavin on my hip. And I waited. Before long, the fireman appeared at the door and asked if I knew I had a fire in my backyard. “Yes,” I replied.

“Who started the fire?” he asked.

“My son,” I answered.

“How old is he?”

“16.”

“The fire chief wants to talk to you.”

Let me set the scene a bit more. I was barefoot, sweaty, with dirt on my face and hands, and a screaming three-year-old on my hip! Oh, and the neighbor had removed the stairs to the front porch as he was building new stairs! My license tag was still a Georgia plate. We must have looked and sounded like hillbillies to these New England guys!

The fire chief asked if I knew having a fire without a permit in Exter was illegal.

“No,” I answered.

He then proceeded to state the various requirements for having a backyard fire. Here’s the best part of all.

“Ma’am,” he continued. “You can burn brush, or you can cook food outside, but you can’t burn brush and cook on the same fire.”

Oh my gosh! He actually thought I was cooking those chicken legs on a brush fire! How I wish that I had a bucket full of barbecue sauce and a mop and could have said,

“Here! Take this mop and go slosh those chicken legs with this here barbecue sauce!”

It was all I could do to keep from dying laughing! Those Southern hillbillies!

Later that evening, David informed me that the bucket of water he threw on the fire had a frog in it. Did the fire chief think I was cooking frog legs as well??

All of this took place before I met Duncan. I met him two years later, and he loved this story! If he were cooking chicken on a brush fire, he would have put down a piece of hardware cloth to cook it on!

Hardware cloth is such a helpful product. It’s available in galvanized after, vinyl-coated, and stainless steel. Check out our hardware cloth!

My warmest regards,

Debbie Page

CEO, Louis E. Page Inc–Woman-owned business and Family-owned since 1893. (True! That’s 131 years owned and run by our family)

An imagined world and other tales

I walked through my garden this morning, my puppy at my heels, and I savored the beauty of the blooming rhododendrons, the Johnny Jump-ups, and the wild geranium. Every year, the garden grows bigger and more beautiful, and so does my imagination.

As I write this, I can see the dragonflies flitting to and fro; I imagine they’re catching bugs for dinner in flight. I see my chocolate vine trailing over the rock wall and imagine the blooms I’ll enjoy later. The hydrangeas have abundant leaves this year, and my hope springs eternal. Life. Life begetting life brings the desire for eternity with it.

And then I spot the weeds. They are every bit as abundant as the wanted and cherished plants. They often rise higher with more pride as if to say, Hahaha, look at me!

This garden I inherited from the previous owners is big! It's massive, actually, as far as tending to it. Then I looked further and saw how the ferns encroached on every border. That’s when I started to imagine. Oh..if only I could imagine the weeds away! How glorious that would be. I’ve heard silly nonsense that we wouldn’t appreciate beauty without the ugly or the chore. I totally disagree with that. We were created out of beauty; therefore, we are beautiful and recognize beauty.

My imagination goes further. I imagine the fence I long to have around my raspberries and strawberries to keep the deer from munching them to the ground. Imagination is the first and essential step in creating. I am imagining a beautiful fence with an arch over the gate and clematis climbing the arch—perhaps a stone arch, but maybe a wooden or metal arch.

I once visited an inn on the island of Vinylhaven, Maine. It was magnificent, made from the local granite by a local stone cutter. Peegee hydrangeas in full bloom framed it on either side. I fell in love. Beauty has that effect.

Now as you know I sell fences, so I’d like you to start imagining your fence and perhaps add an arch over your gate. Protect your crops. Protect your flowers. Fences have that effect.

Head to Louis Page to pick out your fence, or call our wonderful fence expert, Terry. 978-486-3116. (Tap to Call) She will not disappoint!

All my best,

Debbie Page

CEO, Louis E. Page Inc–Woman-owned business and Family-owned since 1893. (It adds up to over 131 years owned and run by our family. Think about it: Nobody stays around in business that long without really supporting customers so they want to come back!)

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Ready to explore your options? Call Terry today to discuss your next project and discover how we can help. T2C

Kind Regards,

Debbie Page

CEO, Louis E. Page Inc–Woman-owned business and Family-owned since 1893. (131 years of continuous service through 2 world wars and 2 pandemics)

Are you drinking the Kool-Aid?

I’m an entrepreneur at heart and have been for as long as I can remember. I was forever finding ways to get my siblings to pay me—”I’ll wash the dishes for you for 50 cents.”

By the time I was 12, I was earning my own spending money by babysitting. I was making 50 cents an hour and thought I was rich! I was. Before this, I had no money to call my own as our parents didn’t give us an allowance. I remember the summer I made $50! Woohoo!

One summer, when I was old enough to know better, I mixed up a half gallon of Kool-Aid, grabbed six plastic cups, and put it all into a wooden crate. Off I went to the new development behind us, where they were building the houses. I stopped at the first house and asked the workers if they wanted a glass of Kool-Aid. It was a hot summer day in Greenville, South Carolina, so everyone said, “Yes!”

People didn’t carry water bottles with them or colas as they only came in glass bottles, so getting something cold and sweet to drink delighted them. They paid me 5 cents a cup!

I trotted on to the next house, not washing the cups in between. They all bought from me! I went on and on through the neighborhood, from house to house. My memory tells me every single worker bought from me. By the time I got home, I had earned a dollar and a half. And I had made some hot, thirsty construction workers happy!

Isn’t that what it’s all about? Making others happy by serving them? Whether in our families, jobs, or companies, we strive to please others and make their lives better.

I received a delightful email from a customer today. He’s a monk. He asked me how he could pray for me and the company. What a beautiful question. It warmed my heart and delighted my soul.

As I go through my day, when the names of family, friends, or customers come to mind, I pray for them to have a blessed and peaceful day. The funny thing is, after I’ve thought about a customer, we’ll get a phone call or email from them. I’ve seen this happen over and over again through the years. Sometimes, it’s a fence customer who has not called in a year!

When you think about us, call or email us, even if you don’t need to buy anything. We love serving and hearing from you!

Call the BEST fence expert in the world, Terry, and say Happy Anniversary! She’s celebrating 24 years at Louis Page! T2C

Kind Regards,

Debbie Page

CEO, Louis E. Page Inc–Woman-owned business and Family-owned since 1893. (It adds up to over 131 years owned and run by our family. Think about it: Nobody stays around in business that long without really supporting customers so they want to come back!)