Ever since we lived in our Airstream after our house burned, (see Adventures in Camping below), daughter Jeana has jokingly (at least I think she is joking) referred to us as trailer trash. And since we now live in our RV, it's sort of true. And if you are trailer trash, you just gotta have pink flamingos . Ooops, no, not live flamingos, pink plastic flamingos.
It all started at a school Christmas party, with a Chinese gift exchange. My darling thought the pink flamingos were cool, and we needed to put them in our yard.
Jeana was ...ummmm.....shall I say, not impressed? But my sister and her husband made them into one of the best jokes we ever experienced.
First, we came home from church one Sunday to find the yard full of baby flamingos, miniatures of the original pair.
Then, suddenly, one of the original pair disappeared. We finally got a note from Pinks, explaining that he had been kidnapped--birdnapped?--and he sent us monthly notes about his travels. With pictures.
One in a hay barn. One where he was in danger of being herded by a sheep dog. His mate, Flossy, seemed very quiet, but she took his disappearance fairly philosophically. she didn't seem all that much happier when he reappeared as suddenly as he had vanished.
Then, on one of our trips to Louisiana, we found a life size wooden flamingo at a flea market. We just had to bring him home, and give him a position of pride on our hearth.
Every time Jeana came over, she moved the flamingo to the patio, next to the hot tub, saying that flamingos need to be near water. As soon as she left, my sweetheart moved the flamingo back to the hearth.
Now that we live in our RV full time, we have no place to put the big flamingo, but the original pair are still dispayed in our yard. Along with flamingo string lights. And a flamingo ring toss game. And I also got a flamingo picture frame from daughter Jamie, for one of the pictures of Pinks on his travels.
Hmmmm. Maybe we could coat the wooden flamingo with spar varnish, and mount him on the boat dock.
That might really send Jeana into spasms of decorating joy.
or maybe not.
