Garden Accent

Garden Accent or Garden Contraband, depending on whether you're talking to me or to Hank. So, I was toodling down a country road on the way to visiting a friend whose garden is going to be in a June garden tour. In my peripheral vision I saw an old shed/barn with a couple of overalled guys who appeared to have dragged from said structure an incredible number of big old things...... milk cans, planters, old plows, shutters, carts....good stuff. I slowed down, quickly reasoned that I could cause an accident either by slamming on my brakes OR by gawking, went a bit further, did a u-turn and parked the car. As I worked my way through that good stuff, (or objects of great potential), my eyes kept going to this old child-size bike. Must be old. Made of iron and rubber, weighs a ton, and it has that great back to front wheel size ratio. It had a price tag on it of $12. Finally, feet firmly planted in front of it, chin in hand, I stared at it and stared at it. The fellow must have thought I was debating a barter, so he jumped into my presumed thought process with, "You can have that for ten dollars." He didn't know that what was really going on in my head was the plethora of comments that Hank would have when I unloaded this item from my car. But ten dollars? You can't get two honeydews and a cataloupe for $10. So, based on my melon logic I declared the bike MINE. For better or worse, it has found a home near my burning bush and is a participant in my efforts to hide the air conditioner. (Surprise, surprise, guess who has admitted that it doesn't look so bad after all!) The spokes were begging for a vine; my choice was the hyacinth bean vine, which I have planted right behind it. I promise another picture when the vine is in bloom.