Awhile ago we saw mushrooms that you put in your garden. You can sit on them. One might even call them toadstools (but I don’t think I will, because that is a terrible joke). I really quite liked the mushrooms, because they’re cute and funny and did I mention you can actually sit on them? These are functional mushrooms, and who doesn’t want functional mushrooms?
I mean – how often do you look at a mushroom, or maybe some other lawn ornament, and ask yourself “But what would I do with it?” and you think about buying it but who can justify spending money on a pair of wooden ducks that just sit in the garden and don’t DO anything?
The mushrooms, on the other hand, have a use.
Plus, we had a space under the avocado tree just waiting to be filled with mushroom.
So we bought three.
Afterwards a disinterested friend was duly admiring said mushrooms (because I was watching carefully and may have sounded a little threatening when I asked “Do you like my mushrooms? The correct answer is yes“), and the nicest thing he could think of to say about them was that they suit my Alice in Wonderland outlook on life.
While some people may not necessarily accept this as a genuine show of admiration, I have chosen to believe it was meant as highest praise.
Now all we need is a row of roses. And possibly a paintbrush.