We live in a neighborhood much like any other – there are folks whose grass could use a little trim, those who leave unattractive junk in their yards and those whose wayward shrubs block the sidewalk.
And there’s the retired couple who spends every day, rain or shine or snow or zombie apocalypse, working on their perfect, carpet-like lawn. With loud equipment. At 8 a.m. Even on Saturdays. Heaven forbid one of our leashed dogs accidentally steps on a corner, making a tiny paw-shaped impression in their kingdom. They are the types who call the doggie po-po on you. We know this because they called the doggie po-po while we were on our honeymoon to report they could smell doggie poo-poo from their back deck. Fortunately, the doggie po-po came to the house – again, in our absence – and said they didn’t smell the doggie poo-poo (we clean it regularly) but suffice it to say we no longer acknowledge these neighbors in any way other than the one-finger salute while hiding behind a shrub. Kidding. (Maybe).
There are also all types of gardens in our ’hood. Unkempt ones and pristine ones and those, like mine, that could always use a little attention. One day, while walking the dogs through the subdivision, I got a good lesson in judging others by their yards.
I was meandering along and came upon a colorful plot filled with flowers and a variety of garden-doodads-on-a-stick. I thought, “Who would want those cheap, kindergarten-looking decorations in their garden?”
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Suddenly, I stopped short on the sidewalk and began loudly lol-ing at myself. Anyone watching would likely have called the real po-po.
Why the self-inflicted guffaws? Because there I was mentally poking fun at someone’s garden decorations when I have statues that are unequaled in the history of tacky garden décor: a three-foot concrete garden Sasquatch and a six-foot concrete garden Loch Ness Monster. In the front yard. (And did I mention the concrete Sasquatch footprints? And the mooning gnome on our front porch?)
Before you go judging, let me say this: The statues are painted a brownish hue so they are less visible among the shrubs (all the better to startle our guests) and they were wedding gifts … of a sort. Sweetums bought the Bigfoot just so he could say we had a Sasquatch at our ceremony, then he bought Nessie on our honeymoon (there’s really no excuse for the gnome). I didn’t argue because a) I like having a little surprise in the garden, b) it makes Sweetums happy and c) it probably royally pisses off the mean neighbors. Now if only I could get the Sasquatch to poop in their yard.