Whimsical Touches For My Garden

You know those people who like to have things really tidy and streamlined? Yeah, I’m not really one of them. If you look at me, you wouldn’t place me in such an environment either. I can appreciate the modern look, but I know it’s not for me.

To begin with, I’m a packrat, so you can expect clutter to surround me. I’ve learned to edit better since getting more children, but my natural inclination is to hoard and display. You can expect my home to be more shabby-chic than contemporary, so you can also forget about seeing neatly and elegantly manicured lawns.

My style is mostly clean but confused, and I’m definitely all about whimsy. Back in the early days of my marriage, we lived in a house with large front and side lawns. It perched on top of a hill, so instead of a backyard, there was only room for a patio and then the ground dipped down into a slope that ended abutting the patio of the Wolfes. The two daughters were my students at the nearby school. The grassy incline separating our homes was filled with white and yellow wildflowers. Now, that was my scene. The manicured lawns (when we remember to call our yard guy), not so much.

I may not go for streamlined, but I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I let the lawn turn into a virtual jungle. So our yard guy took care of the grass and the hedges and things well-maintained. Our water reticulation system took care of the daily misting, and overall it was nice and neat. I couldn’t live with it either. I needed whimsical crap in my yard.

First I hung some wind chimes and dreamcatchers from tree branches, and then I added birdhouses. We had a lot of crows in our neighborhood, so I thought it would be funny to install a cute little — and very ineffectual — scarecrow. That sure confused the birds. Did I want them in my yard or not? I was designing a mosaic bird bath I meant to place next to it when I got pregnant and all my original plans went kaput. I had fully intended to keep on working, and then the second trimester hit and, suddenly, not taking care of my baby myself became unthinkable.

A decade later, we now live on top of another hill, but we don’t have a lawn to speak of. This is a small townhouse and we’re only allowed a pocket garden next to the carport. Our herbs are mostly on the wall. Whimsy is still important, however, so we stuck a couple of whirligigs in some of the planters. It’s not enough though. I have to embellish some more.

I mused to my husband, “We could add a cute gnome.”

“Or we could install motion sensor lamps.”

I knew he didn’t like the whirligigs either. I’m definitely getting that gnome.