Four lines of prose about: the fence.
We're in the process of putting up a fence around the garden in order to keep the vegetable-eating deer out. It was actually fun work today, but that might have had a lot to do with the absolutely gorgeous weather. I didn't want to come inside when we were done for the day.
His wife hated it. The kids thought it was awesome. The neighbours wisely kept their opinions to themselves whenever he was within earshot.
But there was one thing they could all agree on: everyone knew that when you reached the fence made out of human skulls, you had reached the Anderson's.