Monday, October 20, 2008

Taste Test

I like to think I have good taste. All of us do. I like the way my house is decorated, the clothes in my closet, the "stuff" I am drawn to at Target. I go through life quite certain that my taste is the best taste. Contemporary, but not too trendy. Classic, but not archaic. Clean, but not unliveable. Yes, I am quite certain that my taste is anything but tacky.

But someone out there clearly doesn't feel the way I do. Someone out there is buying the elastic-banded, gag blue denim capri pants at the store (which, I might add, do nothing for your tush--and are they REALLY all that comfortable?). Someone is drawn to mauve and forest green wallpaper borders (the commitment-less wallpaper) to match their Deep Forest Dupont Stainmaster carpet. Someone out there decorates in several shades of my-worst-nightmare! And this someone is every bit as convinced as I am about their taste: it is good.

And I think I know who this person is. My landlady. "Crazy Pat", I'm quite convinced, is growing something illegal (for personal use only, of course) in her greenhouse in the backyard. "Crazy Pat" loves all things tie dye, including her hair which has ranged from a vibrant orange to a vibrant gold to a medley of brown, grey, yellow and orange all at once. "Crazy Pat" has a soft place in her heart for chihuahuas. Currently, we are up to four of the yappers. "Crazy Pat" expressed sorrow of the worst degree after a Jethro Tull concert because her one and only grandson will never have the blessed opportunity that is seeing Jethro live.

Yes, "Crazy Pat" is that special kind of eccentric you can appreciate having in the neighborhood, but living in such close proximity (as, say, her basement) is sometimes a bit much. I can forgive her many yapping chihuahuas. I can forgive her odd conversation. I can forgive her bra-less gardening. But I must express that there is one eccentricity that does me in.

Alice and I lovingly refer to it as "The Gypsy Cart."

Behold, what is only the tip of the iceberg in tacky lawn decor:



It is everywhere. Every nook, every cranny has a little sumpin-sumpin besides organic matter. The tree branches sag under the weight of dangling trinkets, rather than pears or plums. I would find it entertaining, if not for the fact that I live here. The path to my basement entryway is lined with all things tacky.

And so, I have three key words for our kindly (though eccentric) "Crazy Pat."

Less is more, Patty. Less is more.

6 comments:

Melissa Bastow said...

It would be creepy if you woke up one morning and every lawn "person" (or animal, or thing with eyeballs) was pointed toward your door...watching you. Yeah, that would be creepy. You might want to hire some lawn ornament hit men....you know, just in case.

Ginger said...

LOL! Oh my goodness how funny! She really does sound like quite the lady. At least it gives you and Alice some good entertainment! Never a dull moment with Pat, i'm sure.

Wemdu Pea said...

LOVED it! Thank you for laugh! :)

Alice said...

hehehehehe great pictures. Really. Some of them turned pretty cool. Oh Pat, something oh so endearing about the crazy woman.

I hope she isn't secretly reading our blogs. I wonder what she would think of this post.

bytheway, Melissa's comment made me laugh. A little creepy, but I would die laughing if she plotted against us in such a way ;)

Jen said...

when we bought our house our lawn was covered in stone wolves that were howling at the moon, but your landlady definitely has the previous owners beat.

Amber said...

She does keep the lawn and property tidy and well kept. "Crazy Pat." She likes when I bring my kids around, I think?

I thought about the reading your blog thing too. I guess Ali and I think alike.

Just close your eyes and walk quickly.