A section of my home-knitted perimeter fence has collapsed since I last looked. It happens to be the section on which I spent the most time and effort. It used to be a pleasingly rustic piece of craftwork; it is now just a pile of sticks and brushwood. Clearly the design was flawed- and there'd be no point in trying to reconstruct it. The wind blew, it fell- and is one with Nineveh and Tyre (though they lasted a little longer).
It still functions as a barrier of sorts. And if I pile extra stuff on top it will become more of one- less artistic (in fact not artistic at all) but impenetrable. So here's a job for the next day or two.
It had served its purpose- which was to keep me happy and industrious during the early days of the lockdown- so never mind.