So I’ve shared with you all the wonderful po-dunk white trash container garden that I started. You’ll be happy to know it’s doing reasonably well for my first effort…YAY! They are growing, I’m remembering to water them, and they seem to be getting enough daylight. So there is hope. I don’t expect much from my first attempt…I expect to learn. Any actual produce will be an added bonus at this point!
At any rate, we’re slowly reclaiming the yard from the wildlife around us. And let me tell you, that’s been a bit of a battle. The previous owners didn’t do jack squat with their yard…and by that I mean they neglected to the point of destruction. There are trees where there shouldn’t be trees, odd piles of stones and gravel in various places, the ground is too high around the foundation (which led to a basement flood the first few months we lived here), the ground is completely uneven…oh yeah…and as an added bonus, there was a four-foot high, at least ten-foot around “burn pile” in the yard. By burn pile, I mean assorted garbage one should never ever burn. Like old plastic containers and plastic fake grass welcome mats. Yeeeeeuck.
So one of our summer rituals is my hubby’s weekly trips to the hardware stores. He’s in charge of most of the actual battle. You know…the mounds and mounds of ants that seem to think they have more a right to live here than we do? The wasps that build their nests where they always have right next to our bedroom window? The ground squirrels who seem to think it’s their garage? The battle of man vs nature is endless.
On Hubby’s last trip to his personal Mecca (otherwise known as Menard’s), he rediscovered his love of wind chimes. So he bought one…and then decided that since they were on sale we needed more. We now have one on each side of the house…and have given one to each of our fathers. Hubby likes a good sale.
He also brought this fellow back for me…
He’s a cutie, ain’t he? A bit of a slacker tho…but that’s another story.
Thing is, Hubby didn’t know exactly how funny this really is. See, he’s never read the manuscript. In fact, I rarely even discuss it with him. Not because he’s not supportive…in fact, he makes comments about how he knows I’m going to be the next J.K. Rowling. I think not. In fact, I wouldn’t want that title. Nope. Not my goal at all. Point is tho, I haven’t told him anything at all because, well, in an odd way it’s just too personal. Seriously. I’ve always been this way. I never share anything at all with family. I guess I’m weird that way.
Anywhoo…the reason this is so funny? I’ve always rather disliked garden gnomes. They were all the rage a few years back, with books being written about them and all that nonsense. All about their pointy red hats and what they like to eat and all of that. It annoyed me. I’ve always figured if gnomes really did exist, they wouldn’t look a thing like this fellow here.
So in my book I took that to the next level. Because one of the first victims are…yep, garden gnome statues which are being randomly smashed by annoyed bands of actual gnomes.
When this fellow was handed to me, I laughed. A lot. Then I called Mousie up (my alpha-reader) and she laughed. A lot. Hubby is still not in on the joke but I have to admit I have a new-found fondness for garden gnome statues.
This may be the beginning of a very silly collection.