Yesterday, in between working at his real job, White Trash Bob and I picked up the stuff to build the fence, laid out a plumb line (or whatever you call it) around the yard, and dug the post holes. Wait, that's not entirely true. After he saw that it took me about five times longer to dig a post hole than it does him, he dug all the post holes. I dug half of one. And I provided emotional support and encouragement while WTB dug 8½ post holes by telling him he was staving off osteoporosis and heart disease by doing so. I'm not sure he appreciated that.