.Whenever I want something kept secret....I've always used the expression "Between you, me, and the fencepost". And with autumn arriving with it's vibrant hues, crunchy fallen leaves, wooded hiking trails, and outdoor excursions, how strange the many meanings of 'fenceposts' dance in my head. Not only do they keep things in or out, but how we gather at them with neighbors for chats or as a marker in the metaphor above.
I also see them as as a safe haven and felt like I've always sat on them through life as well. When my parents divorced and remarried in my young teens....I was relieved to have the opportunity to go to boarding school. They were like day and night. Looking at both families, the term "Osbourne's VS Osmond's" was used to describe them. My father's blunt and direct approach would be refreshing in comparison to my mother's head games yet her compassionate nature would always win me over when it came to his brash, callous ways. I learned that I am a hybrid but mostly a copy of my father. I think this is largely due to our birthdays being within 24 hours of each other rather than any genetic or environmental factors. In his end days...we frequently found ourselves on the fence together analyzing and dissecting each family member one by one.
Whether used in boundaries, non commitments, markers, metaphors, or gatherings.....Paros doesnt't really care for fence posts. He hikes his leg to pee on them :l