When my in-laws sold their house a couple of years ago, they moved into an extended stay facility while their new house was being completed. Because we live in the same area, they brought some items to store at our house during this time -- things like house plants, some glassware, and (naturally) a concrete dog lawn ornament.
We thought it would be funny to put this in our yard near the front door for a couple of months until my in-laws got settled and took it back -- and were sure that our friends would see it, mock it, and that hilarity would ensue over our attempt at kitschiness.
I guess we just got used to it (and never received any comments on it) because two years went by and we had pretty much forgotten it was out there. (And my in-laws had "forgotten" to claim it.) Occasionally, I'd see it and think, "we really need to get rid of that thing before people think we're serious" and then I'd get involved in something else and forget all about it.
A couple of weeks ago, I finally remembered to ask Canetto to move the thing into the back yard. The next day when I was walking with my friend, Amanda, I asked her, "Did you ever notice that concrete dog by our front door?" and she said, "I always meant to ask you about that...because you're not really dog people."
To which I replied, "I was kinda hoping you'd say that we're not really concrete lawn ornament people."
6 comments:
I think that's a bit of a stretch, given the gnome fantasyland you've created in your flower bed.
I have a flamingo you can have if you want to replace it!
I knew it was there--but I like it better than the lawn jockey that preceded it...
I feel like I noticed that before. Didn't really faze me. You do live in Oakton, after all. Could have been a natural feature for all I knew.
Plus, given your Tidewater origins, it seemed apropos. I seem to recall lugging a cement bench and/or planters from Williamsburg to NH in the back of our Pinto station wagon (it was only the hatchback that exploded) after a trip there in 1975 to visit relatives.
That trip was also important in my life because it is my earliest memory of interacting with black people--the kids who lived next door to my aunt.
You all probably thought it was a hanger-on from my National Concrete Masonry Association days...(those were much less popular trade show giveaways than I had anticipated...)
I'm glad your parents loved you enough to not buy the hatchback.
It is entirely possible they got some deal along the lines of the station wagon for the price of the hatchback. I doubt love had anything to do with it.
In fairness, they did buy it before the exploding gas tank problem came to light, so to speak.
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