That’s just the way we roll here in Mayberry.

Let me ask you a question.

Say you were sitting at home one day, looking out your window at your yard, thinking to yourself, “I really ought to get out there and spruce things up a bit.” And yeah, you could drive to Wal-Mart and buy a gnome or two. Or you could you jump on the “Shabby Chic” bandwagon and use vintage found objects to dress up your flower gardens.

But would it occur to you to tell everybody you know to send their neglected bowling balls and pins your way? Would it occur to you to use more than a thousand bowling balls to build a fence and various decorative elements in your yard?

It wouldn’t? Well, maybe you’re lacking creative inspiration, but here in Mayberry, that’s the just way we roll.

Check it out.

That’s just the way we roll here in Mayberry.

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Maybe the best you could do are a few privacy panels made of treated lumber or a white picket fence made of maintenance free vinyl. Yeah. I always knew you were a lemming.

But not Mayberry residents Chris and Ann. They live down the road a bit, just past Doc’s clinic and about a mile from the dairy farm where my friend Julie grew up.

I hear tell they constructed the fence first. It only took 108 balls, which in the scheme of things really isn’t all that many.

Especially when you’re soliciting bowling balls and you live in middle America.

There are an awful lot of needy and neglected bowling balls out there (you haven’t missed this story have you?) and Chris and Amy promise to give them a good home. And all balls are welcome. There’s no discrimination here in Mayberry.

Nope. If a ball’s not quite right for job, Chris transforms it. These little fellas didn’t start out as lady bugs, but look at them now.

And despite their appearance, these aren’t GIANT billiards balls. But look at them after Chris gave them a new lease on life.

And look at this rainbow coalition of balls that formed an alphabet. Chris is truly doing the Lord’s work, sheltering needy balls of all colors and spreading literacy . . .

. . . and faith. Check out this rosary.

And what rosary is complete without a cross?

And what cross is complete without a . . . without a . . . a lollipop garden? (I didn’t make it up, folks. There’s a sign.)

Chris doesn’t just run a home for wayward balls and pins. Old bowling trophies are welcome, too. This one found new life as a mailbox ornament.

The way I see it, Chris is doing all of Mayberry County a favor by keeping old bowling balls off the street.

There’s only one downside. If a tornado ever blows through these parts, Chris’ neighbors are seriously screwed.

Just saying.