Posted by: Kim_Hamilton on 04/19/2009 11:35 PM
Updated by: thepinetree on 04/19/2009 11:44 PM
Expires: 01/01/2014 12:00 AM
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Welcome to the Country..."Country Decorating" ~by Charity Maness
So you’ve decided to move to the country, where lawn and yard décor take on a whole new meaning. There are no pink plastic flamingos to be found out here. We country folk have a different way of decorating the outside of our humble abodes. Just to give you a hint, we have a real hard time getting rid of anything, and I literally mean anything. Things that city folk might consider junk, we might just consider lawn art.....
Who knew we country folk would be on the cutting edge of “eco-art.”
I think we can all agree that the traditional old rusty windmill adds quite a bit of country charm to an old farmstead right? But a windmill in the front yard of my little two acre spread? I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking that’s a bit of a stretch. Who knows, maybe Wyatt, yes, the same genius that moved me here to Tombstone, knows something I don’t. Just maybe he snuck out one night under the cover of darkness with his divining rod and struck a vein of liquid gold, in this land of scorching heat, better known as “water.” The result of his infinite wisdom is a strategically placed windmill of questionable proportions gracing my front lawn. What is so strategic about the placement you ask? Well, because of its location front and center of our lawn, I had the infinite joy of gazing out our picture window daily with wonder at my beautiful new windmill. Please say you hear the sarcasm there. (The window blinds were on back order.)
As if a lopsided windmill is not enough yard art we, “we” being Wyatt, decide to add a tractor and a disc to the ever growing front yard “art collection.” This poor little tractor had managed to live for fifty years…until our family got ahold of it. I must say, it worked great for us…for an hour. Did you know that four wheelin’ over boulders and through creeks are not good for tractors? Evidently Wyatt didn’t know this either. So after the little tractor disced and plowed its little heart out for an hour, Wyatt disconnected the discs and took our little tractor for a spin, through the creek. When it slowly sputtered to the other side, tire blown, water spitting out of its exhaust pipe, it just up and died. And that’s where she sat, for three years. Discs on one side of the creek, tractor on the other, two parts of a whole separated forever. And now, lucky me, a new addition to my ever growing lawn “art collection.”
Though Wyatt may have had a very strange decorating style, I do need to thank him for having the foresight to not let me use the discarded kitchen sink as a decorative flower box. Just for clarification, Wyatt drew the line at any household items used, however creatively inspired, for any outside floriculture purpose. We had no sinks, fish bowls, beer bottles, toilets, margarine containers, whiskey bottles, or bathtubs sprouting anything in our yard. I’ve seen what this minor decorating faux pas inherently leads to out here. First you start with a harmless kitchen sink, then without warning, your flower crazy brain looks at the discarded toilet bowl and thinks “Why not?” I’ve seen it with my own eyes and let me tell you, it’s not a pretty sight. Add in a couple cow chips, refer to last week’s dictionary for definition, strategically placed about the lawn and we’re good to go.
Who knew we country folk would be on the cutting edge of “eco-art.”
Until next time…welcome to the country.
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