Yard Art

Our backyard. Fantastic, huh?!

Okay, it's not really our backyard, but we once again got lost trying to find the Ter Dolen Brewery and once again happened upon this - the epitome of yard art.

Frazier and Opa picking out our new lawn gnome.

The Europeans don't seem to have latched onto this recycling blessing, but there's hardly a lawn way down in south Louisiana that doesn't have one of these bathtub beauties. I think there's an ordinance requiring it. Google it.

So, this past weekend we went shopping for some yard art. Who doesn't love race ponies and jockeys? These are actual life-size jockeys.

Did you know there's no height limit for jockeys? Only weight. This means a jockey could be 7 feet tall as long as he/she weighs no more than a swallow. Or is it a coconut? I forget.

Turns out you can buy these stunning sculptures all ready for your very own backyard hippodrome.

And at only €1700, it's a no-brainer. Choosing which one is the challenge.

We went the traditional route and planted a tree. An apple tree. Jim picked it because all the limbs were flat just the way we imagined it on our blank wall in the backyard. It produces a "cooking apple".

I love trees. I get a sick feeling when I hear a chainsaw. Almost like when I hear someone slap the $#*! out of their kid in Wal-Mart. My knees get weak.

I'm not talking about trees planted for harvesting. For the record, I'm not just saying that because we've always been very close to companies that do just that. Cut trees and make something useful out of them.

I know I can be opinionated and possibly narrow-minded from time to time, but it always amazes me how really narrow-minded some people can be. For example, have you ever passed by some acreage where pine trees have just been harvested and think what a shame that all those trees were just cut down?

I'll bet you do.

But do you ever pass by a pasture and think how much more useful it would be if there were trees planted on it? Trees that can be replanted again and again and again? No. And that pasture is completely idle doing no one any good. Get a cow or something. Or better yet, plant pine trees on it.

I often ask Jim to tell the story of a property owner we knew who lived adjacent to land owned by a timber company. They had it made. At least in the sense they lived in an exclusive neighborhood and in a secluded area surrounded by timberland they didn't even own. Does it get any better than that?

One day the woman of the house heard that awful sound of chainsaws and panicked.

I know that feeling . . . we had a vacant lot behind our house on Wedgewood in Ruston when I heard that same sound one day. Yikes - a new neighborhood? You're cutting all the trees? Our buffer zone? Smaller houses? Potential property value drop?

Yep, that's right. And there's not a damn thing you can do about it. Naturally, we didn't own the land. And here's the important part - we never tried to buy it either. So there. Don't be surprised when the real landowner decides to put a 7-11 in your backyard. You coulda bought it first.

But you didn't.

Well, back to my previous story . . . the woman of the house hears the chainsaw and calls Dr. Jones (not his real name . . . maybe). Oh, and he's also the husband. "Honey, I hear chainsaws on the timber acreage adjacent to our lot. I think we need to find out what's going on."

Dr. Jones: "Honey, right after this proctoscopy, I'll get right on that."

Naturally, Dr. Jones immediately calls out the big guns - disclaimer: the big guns have nothing to do with the proctoscopy. Anyway, he calls out the big guns and finds out the timber company is taking rightful ownership of their very own trees to make toilet paper for Dr. Jones and the wife.

Whoa! Hold on. Dr. Jones calls the timber company and says "We don't really need toilet paper and how much do you want for that acreage of timber?" Timber company says "Market value is $x."

Sold.

The wife is happy, Dr. Jones is happy, and their privacy is retained. Win, win, right?

But wait. Fast forward about a year. Dr. Jones and his happily, private, wife decide their newly-purchased privacy is way overrated, toilet paper is often useful, and they decide to put their privacy on the market. What? You're selling the timber?

What about your privacy? You will be stuck hugging your crepe myrtle.

The moral(s) of this story is

(1) yard art is just that - until it becomes profitable

(2) don't complain when a 7-11 ends up in that vacant lot behind your house - buy it

(3) plant pine trees for privacy so you can sell them later - and you will

and

(4) if your apple tree produces cooking apples - don't make fruit salad. Make apple pie.