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The Dirt

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The Tampa Tribune

Published: January 4, 2009

It has taken me all week, but I think I've finally gotten every bit of Christmas garden bounty settled into its perfect spot.

It's a challenge. Not only does the spot have to complement the piece perfectly, but the piece also has to be visible from the kitchen window and other key vantage points. This is so I can admire it over and over again, and so that anyone who comes to my home can immediately spot it and admire it, too. So much looking and admiring works to eventually wear away the novelty of the item so that, someday, I'll be OK with moving it to a supporting role when something new comes along.

Right piece/right place was especially difficult this year because I got 11 garden-related gifts(!), six of which were objets d' art, and all of which I love.

Kim's was easy; I got hers first.

It's a great little concrete birdbath about 14 inches tall with a mossy patina. What I love best, though, is that its placement next to my dying plumbagos takes them from haggard to shabby chic. (And if I'm the only one who sees that, fine. I'm happiest when I'm delusional.)

From my mom, who has lovingly kept me in penny loafers and penny earrings and penny watches, came this steppingstone. I can't see it from the window, but it's right in front of the little pond, and who doesn't feel compelled to stop at a little pond and look down?

My dad and stepmother also hit the jackpot with an emerald glass orb on a cast-iron stand. She found it at a cottagey teahouse in Ocala, which she swears I would love (I agree) and to which she'll bring me, "If you ever decide to drive up and visit." (Stepmother guilt; very effective.)

Her mother got me an adorable faux-stone rabbit candleholder. I can see both orb and bunny from the kitchen window.

My son found a stalactite from a Mexican cave at Black Market Minerals near Orlando. You would love this shop, he says, but, strangely, adds nothing about his need to have me visit him. He did warn, however, that this would be the last stalactite I would get from him if I failed to place it in a place of honor and prominence. (Son guilt. Also effective.)

His girlfriend got me, among other thoughtful garden gifts, a decorative old picture frame to hang on the fence, replacing the one they all burned in the fire ring. (Long story.)

I'm almost embarrassed to admit to all this largess, but garden art is all about sharing the beauty, right? Feel free to do some bragging of your own. Send your brag and a photo to pcarnathan@tampatrib.com and I'll post them at The Dirt online.

Penny Carnathan

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