RERUN: The True Story of Duck and Wheel With String.

I was thinking that I probably should do my annual explain-what-the-heck-the-name-of-this-blog-is post one of these days. So I did--today. If you already know what it means, you can take the day off, but I figure some folks have no idea and might be wondering. Or not.

This was originally posted in January 2009 when I did a blog re-hab. I guess I'm due for that again one of these days, but I sorta like the look. Is there a moratorium on blog layouts? Gees, I hope not.

The True Story of Duck and Wheel With String

I've had a couple of people wonder recently what the heck the name of this blog is supposed to mean. I never really thought that readers would care, more or less ask, so it kind of caught me off guard. I explained for the first time the other day to Diana because she is going to design a new look for this place, and she thought it funny, so I guess I'll share. Prepare for boredom now.

I lovingly refer to the town I live in as "Weirdville". There are weird street names, weird houses, really weird additions to said houses that couldn't have possibly passed an inspection of any kind, and WEIRD people. Lots of them. There are weird mayors, weird trustees, weird politicians, weird firemen, and WEIRD policemen--one lives next door. Everything about Weirdville is weird, but it is relatively easy to live here (financially), so my coping mechanism is to maintain my sense of humor. And to hide out in my fenced-in yard and write this blog.

One of the weirdest thing about homes in Weirdville are the weird yards. I love to walk around the neighborhood looking at the weird sh*t (sorry, that's the only word I can use here) that residents put in their yards. There are giant 3-foot butterflies on trees, flocks and flocks of fake geese, a conastoga wagon on a 50 x 100 lot, garden gnomes by the millions, herds of fake deer, and flying pig wind socks. There are some really creative uni-bush (you know, the 10 bushes that have grown into one big bush) arrangements, odd landscaping, lack of landscaping, and plenty of cars on blocks in the driveway. There are cars parked on lawns, vegatables growing by the front door, and old tire flower gardens. I think you understand where the name "Weirdville" comes from.

One particular favorite yard is at the end of my street. I probably wouldn't notice it beyond all of the other weird yards except that there is a stop sign there, and I am forced to actually stop and look in that direction whenever I leave the subdivision. You can't help but see the yard sh*t. It's like I can't avoid it--it's the eye-magnet of junk.

But there it is--a small garden, marked off with timbers in a 4 x 4 square on the corner. In the back is a metal wagon wheel sunk into the ground about 4 inches. To the right of the wheel, just a tad in front, stands a white plastic duck with it's neck outstretched, looking for a way out, I think. In front of all of this loveliness are miscellaneous plantings--spring flowers, fall mums, "wildflowers" (aka: weeds) and some sticker bushes grown to distorted beauty. It is four season loveliness, as the colors change on the weeds/plants throughout the year. I never knew sticker bushes could possibly grow so tall, but thanks to these botanical gardens, I am offered new insight on the grow pattern of such weeds.

My typical sarcastic self just has to comment on this sight often, pointing out the vision lovingly referred to as "Duck and Wheel". "Ooooh, Duck and Wheel is in full bloom this morning" or "Uh oh, Duck and Wheel needs some rain today" or "Fall is coming, Duck and Wheel is starting to change colors".

The kids start chiming in, usually Em more than Col, because she is just like Mom--but sometimes better. "Wow. Look at Duck and Wheel in the snow, Mom!" she blurts out in passing. "Hey! You can hardly see Duck today, he's camouflaged by the weeds!" --it goes on and on.

One particular day, Em and I are driving by and she lets out an audible gasp. "Mom! It's PERFECT!" She's screaming now. A long piece of string had apparently been blowing around the 'hood and got wrapped around the wagon wheel. There it was, blowing in the wind--a perfect vision of yard sh*t heaven. It could not have looked worse, but there it was. From then on, that corner display was referred to "Duck and Wheel With String".

But what does that have to do with this blog, you ask? Why on earth would you use such a long-winded wacky name for your blog when you have to type that in a cabillion places in a single day? Well, other than the fact that I was told to pick something that nobody else would use (check), I think this blog is sorta like that garden. It's a place where anything can show up. It might be lovely, it might be icky, it might be ugly--who knows. Whatever is blowing by is fair game. Yeah, there might be weeds, but you know what, if you look close enough, there might be a couple of pretty flowers there too. I am, but the duck, standing proud amongst the junk--the queen of the little garden plot known as "the blog". It is a conglomeration of whatever happens to be that day, and like the corner "garden", beauty is definitely in the eye of the beholder.

No, I don't have a photo of Duck and Wheel With String, but it's not for the lack of trying. I did try to snap a photo or two driving by, but I always felt guilty about it. What if they saw me and thought I was some weirdo (like there aren't enough of those around here)? I couldn't possibly walk down there with my camera--that would be just too obvious. I wouldn't want to hurt their feelings, I would rather just snicker behind their backs.

Duck and Wheel With String is gone now. It has been replaced by "Flower Bed", which is a metal headboard and footboard sunk over Wheel. There are dried up old mums in the middle to form the "bed" portion. Peeps are going literal now with their yard art. Duck has been moved over by the cement stairs next to "Duck With Flowers in the Hole in it's Back". I'm hoping for ducklings in the spring.