Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached the end of the Interwebs.
I am working on a new tablescape. The theme is "Yard Art on Crack." The inspiration: two garishly (but solid) colored gnomes, one lime green and one a hot orange, procured from The Dollar Spot at Super Target. (Sidenote: They came from the section of The Dollar Spot where things are not a dollar. In this section, items are, actually, factually, priced at $2.50. Which sort of calls the whole "Dollar Spot" thing into question, doesn't it? Ever been at Dollar Tree and wondered how much something cost and then felt stupid about it? Well, you should not feel stupid at The Dollar Spot, because everything is not a dollar. By the way, I experience the "Stupid Dollar Tree Moment" on a fairly regular basis. I also frequently pick up cards in the "Blank Cards" section - and open them. Every. Time. What is that about, exactly? But I digress.)
Next to the citrus-hued gnomes was a pink flamingo. Love pink flamingos. Never had one, and the price was right, at $2.50 (because we are still in the "Not-Dollar Spot Within the Dollar Spot").
All of the above made me think of an adorable table from Reading Rocks, inspired by Dan Yaccarino's picture book, Lawn to Lawn:
Will post a photo of the RR table when I get around to constructing and photographing (and, you know - ACTUALLY FINDING A PURPOSE FOR) mine. Anyway, while standing in the "Not-Dollar Spot Within the Dollar Spot," I determined that a $7.50 expenditure towards a Yard Art on Crack table display would be money well spent. In my wacky decorating world, this concept is a versatile one. And it gives me an excuse to use the Astroturf table runner that I acquired for the Super Bowl. Yay. Amortizing table decor makes me happy.
So I was searching for further YAoC inspiration, and my Google search turned up this:
An entry on the doityourself.com Web site titled "How to Fix Your Broken Garden Gnome."
Here is the introduction:
Life in the outdoors can be hard on a garden gnome. Lawn mowers and garden tools bump and knock them, running children collide with and trip over them, and unexpected early cold weather can crack them. Follow these instructions to fix your broken ceramic, terracotta or resin garden gnomes.
The introduction is followed by SEVEN STEPS TO FIXING A GARDEN GNOME. SEVEN. S-E-V-E-N. And I have to say: "Really?" (Note to self: Get around to creating a "Really?" jar and drop a quarter in it every time a "Really?" moment presents itself. The kids' college fund will be at capacity in no time.)
Was it necessary to spell out the theoretical hazards that could weed a garden gnome out of the garden gnome gene pool? (Gardening pun unintended - but now that I spot it, it's kinda awesome, so, yeah, I claim it.)
Do we really need gnome-specific repair instructions? Is it something about their shape that makes repairing a gnome different than repairing another ceramic, terracotta or resin item?
If your terracotta gnome broke into two pieces, and you wanted to know the best way to repair it, would you Google "how to repair broken terracotta"? Or would your first instinct be to search for "how to repair a broken terracotta garden gnome"?
I'm just sayin'.