My lovely granddaughter gave me a cute garden gnome to make my yard more cheerful. But my nosy neighbor, who can’t stand a little fun, reported me to the HOA for “ruining” the look of the neighborhood. She thought she had won. Oh, how wrong she was!
Hello there! Come on in and take a seat. This old lady has a story that will make you laugh and maybe teach you something, too. Now, I know you might be thinking, “Oh no, not another story about lost love or cheating husbands.” But hold on! This story isn’t about my dear Arnold. Bless his heart; he’s probably up in heaven, flirting with his old crushes!

No, this story is about something that could happen to anyone.
So listen closely because Grandma Peggy is ready to share how a little garden gnome stirred up a lot of trouble in our quiet neighborhood.
But before we get into the details, let me describe where I live. Picture a cozy suburban paradise, where the streets are lined with maple trees and the lawns are greener than a leprechaun’s vest.

It’s the kind of place where everyone knows each other, and the biggest excitement is usually the latest gossip at Mabel’s Bakery.
Oh, Mabel’s Bakery! That’s where the real fun takes place.
Every morning, you’ll find a group of us old-timers, all nearing 80, sipping coffee and enjoying Mabel’s famous cinnamon rolls and croissants. The smell of fresh bread and the sound of laughter spill out onto the sidewalk, drawing people in like moths to a flame.
“Did you hear about Mr. Bill’s new toupee?” Gladys would whisper, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Land sakes, it looks like a squirrel took up residence on his head!” Mildred would reply, and we’d all laugh like a bunch of hens.
It’s a peaceful life filled with the simple joys of tending to my garden, sharing recipes, and, yes, the occasional bit of harmless gossip. Then one day, my granddaughter, sweet little Jessie, gifted me the cutest garden gnome I’d ever seen.

This little fella had a mischievous grin that could light up a room and a tiny watering can in his chubby ceramic hands.
“Gran,” Jessie said, her eyes sparkling, “I thought he’d be perfect for your garden. He looks just like you when you’re up to no good!”
I couldn’t argue with that. So, I found him a prime spot right next to my prized birdbath.
Little did I know, I’d just planted the seed for the biggest fuss our neighborhood had seen since Mr. Bill’s toupee blew off at the Fourth of July picnic.
“Oh, Peggy,” I muttered to myself as I stepped back to admire my handiwork, “you’ve outdone yourself this time.”
I had no idea how right I was.
Now, before we dive into the thick of it, let me introduce you to the thorn in my side—my neighbor, Carol, who’s also in her late 70s. Picture a woman who’s never met a rule she didn’t like or a bit of joy she couldn’t squash. That’s Carol for you.

She moved in two years ago, but you’d think she’d been appointed Queen of the cul-de-sac the way she carries on. Always peering over fences, measuring grass height with a ruler, and shooing kids away for no reason.
I swear, that woman’s got more opinions than a politician at a debate.
One afternoon, I was out tending to my petunias when I heard the telltale clip-clop of Carol’s shoes on the sidewalk. I braced myself for another lecture on the “proper way” to trim hedges.
“Well, hello there, Carol,” I called out, plastering on my sweetest smile. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”
Carol’s eyes narrowed as she surveyed my garden. “Peggy,” she said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness, “what on earth is that thing by your birdbath?”
I followed her gaze to my new gnome. “Oh, that’s just a little gift from my granddaughter. Isn’t he a darling?”
Carol’s nose wrinkled like she’d smelled something foul.
“It’s certainly unique. But are you sure it’s allowed? You know how particular our HOA is about maintaining the neighborhood’s aesthetic.”

My smile faltered. “Now, Carol, I’ve lived here for nigh on 40 years. I think I know what’s allowed and what isn’t.”
She raised an eyebrow. “If you say so, Peggy. I just wouldn’t want you to get into any trouble.”
As she clip-clopped away, I couldn’t shake the feeling that TROUBLE was exactly what she had in mind.
A week later, I found out just how right I was. There, stuffed in my mailbox like a dirty secret, was a letter from the HOA.
My hands shook as I tore it open, and let me tell you, what I read made my blood boil hotter than a pot of Arnold’s famous five-alarm chili. The letter said that my gnome was against the neighborhood rules and I had to remove it immediately.
“Violation notice?” I sputtered, reading aloud. “Garden ornament not in compliance with neighborhood aesthetic guidelines? Why, I oughta…”
I didn’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out who was behind this. Carol’s smug face popped into my mind, and I could almost hear her nasally voice: “I told you so, Peggy!”
Now, some folks might’ve caved and removed the gnome, but not this old bird. No sir, I’ve got more fight than a cat in a bathtub.
I marched inside, pulled out my reading glasses, and dug up that HOA rulebook. If Carol wanted to play by the rules, then by golly, we’d play by ALL the rules.
I flipped through the pages until I found the section on garden decor. It stated that residents could have one decorative item in their front yard, as long as it didn’t exceed three feet in height. Well, my gnome was only two feet tall! So I was in the clear!
Feeling triumphant, I decided to send a response to the HOA. I crafted a letter detailing my findings and politely requested that they reconsider their stance on my delightful gnome. With a triumphant grin, I dropped the letter in the mail and waited.
As I flipped through page after mind-numbing page, a plan started forming. A devious, delicious plan that would teach Carol a lesson she wouldn’t soon forget.
“Oh, Carol,” I chuckled, “you’ve really stepped in it this time!”
For the next few hours, I was busier than a one-armed paper hanger. I pored over that HOA rulebook like it was the last novel on Earth. And boy, did I strike gold.
Turns out, our dear Carol wasn’t as perfect as she thought. Her pristine white fence? An inch too tall. That fancy mailbox she was so proud of? Wrong shade of beige. And don’t even get me started on her wind chimes… those things were about as welcome as a skunk at a garden party according to the noise ordinance.
With all this juicy information, I could hardly contain my glee. I carefully documented each of her violations and decided to send a little note to the HOA about them.
After all, if Carol wanted to poke her nose into my garden gnome business, I was more than happy to return the favor. “Let’s see how she likes it when the tables are turned!” I said to myself, giggling as I sealed the envelope and sent it off.
That night, I made myself a cup of chamomile tea and settled in for some well-deserved relaxation, eagerly anticipating the chaos that would unfold.

The next morning, I was up with the birds, perched by my window with a cup of coffee and my binoculars. At precisely 7:15 a.m., Carol’s front door opened.
What happened next was better than any TV show I’d ever seen. Carol stepped out, took one look at her lawn, and FROZE. Her mouth hung open. Then, she let out a screech that could’ve woken the dead.
“What in the name of all that’s holy?!” she shrieked, her voice hitting a pitch that made dogs howl three blocks away.
I nearly spilled my coffee laughing. “Oh, Carol, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”
It turned out that while I was busy gathering evidence against her, my friends from the neighborhood had come together to have a little fun of their own. They had all pitched in to cover Carol’s yard with colorful inflatable lawn decorations. Flamingos, unicorns, and even a giant inflatable Santa were now crowding her once-pristine lawn, turning it into a carnival of chaos.
As Carol stood there, mouth agape, I could barely contain my glee. She stomped around her yard, her indignation growing with each inflatable she spotted. I could practically hear her thoughts racing: “This is unacceptable! How could this happen?!”
Every squeal of outrage made me chuckle harder. “That’s right, Carol. Welcome to my world!” I whispered to myself, feeling like I had pulled off the greatest prank of all time.
I knew I had to see her reaction up close, so I grabbed my trusty hat and headed over to “help” her sort out her lawn situation. After all, I was a good neighbor, right?
As I toddled off, leaving Carol sputtering in my wake, I couldn’t help but feel a little proud. Some people never learn, but sometimes, a garden gnome can teach an epic lesson.
When I arrived at Carol’s yard, I could see her pacing back and forth, hands on her hips, looking more flustered than a cat at a dog show. “What am I going to do about this mess?” she muttered to herself, completely ignoring my cheerful greeting.
“Oh, Carol, dear!” I called out, trying to keep a straight face. “Need a hand with all these delightful decorations?”
She shot me a glare that could have melted ice. “This is not funny, Peggy!”
“Of course it is! Look at how festive it is now!” I giggled, trying to lighten her mood. I offered to help her deflate the colorful invaders, but secretly, I was loving every moment of this small victory.
As the day went on, we worked side by side, and I could see her beginning to calm down, despite her initial outrage. “Maybe it’s not so bad,” she finally admitted, a hint of a smile breaking through her stern facade.
And my little gnome? He’s still there by the birdbath, grinning away. Only now, I swear his smile looks just a little bit wider! It seems he’s not just a decoration anymore; he’s become a symbol of our neighborhood’s spirit, reminding us all to embrace a little fun and laughter, even in the face of a neighbor’s strict rules.
As I looked back at my garden, I felt a warmth in my heart, knowing that sometimes, a touch of whimsy can go a long way in softening even the hardest of hearts. And who knows? Maybe Carol will be inspired to add a little joy to her own yard next time!
Jamie Lee Curtis breaks down in tears over shocking revelation!
Jamie Lee Curtis said some very sad things about her close friend and Curb Your Enthusiasm star Richard Lewis, who died on Tuesday of a heart attack at the age of 76.
The 65-year-old actress who played the witch in Halloween also starred with the comedian in the sitcom Anything But Love, which ran for four seasons from 1989 to 1992.
She posted on her main Instagram page on Wednesday after hearing the sad news that the actor had died. Bette Midler was the first to share the news.

Curtis posted a bunch of old pictures of herself with Lewis and wrote a long caption in which she thanked the late star for being “the reason I am sober.”
This month, Jamie celebrated 25 years of being sober after struggling with an opioid addiction.
“I just learned that my friend Richard Lewis has died.” I remember exactly where I was on Sunset Boulevard when I saw a billboard of him for a stand-up special. It was during the casting process for the ABC pilot Anything But Love, and I asked the casting staff to bring him in to try out for the part of Marty Gold, my best friend and maybe boyfriend.
“I thought he looked good.” Someone made me laugh, which is something a strong woman can’t really do for herself. I laughed out loud when he pronounced the word “Bundt cake” wrong, but he got the part.
“He blew everyone else away,” Jamie said. They didn’t pick up the pilot for the love triangle show, but they got back to me and said, “The chemistry with Richard was so great. Could we revamp the original pilot?” That’s how we ended up making the show for two years.

“He was also a stand-up comedian, but he hated performing in front of real people. I, on the other hand, loved it.”
He would hide his lines on props, door frames, and even my face in a close-up. He also always had his lines written on a clipboard with him. He played roles very well, it turned out. It’s deep and so damn funny.
She said, “We grieved together over the death of our friend and co-star Richard Frank and over the death of our friend and producer John Ritter.”
“In his last text message to me, Richard hoped that I could get ABC/Disney to release another boxed set of episodes of the show,” she wrote to her fans.

Then Jamie said, “He’s also the reason I’m sober.” He helped me. I will always be grateful to him for that act of kindness.
They talked about his wife, Joyce Lapinsky, and she said, “He found love with Joyce, and that, of course, along with being sober, was what mattered most to him.” It makes me cry to write this.
This is a strange way to thank a nice and funny man. Richard, may you rest in laughter. “My Marty, I love you, Hannah!” she said in the end.
Jamie also wrote a second post about how sad she was about the death of her longtime friend and former co-star.
She added another old picture of herself with Lewis and some lyrics from the Anything But Love theme song.
“In the third and final season of the TV show ANYTHING BUT LOVE, which aired on ABC for a few years, the great singer-songwriter JD Souther wrote this beautiful theme song,” Curtis wrote.

“Try to find it on YouTube and listen to it. If not, I’ve written it down here for you.” Today I’m giving them to my friend Richard Lewis.
She shared lyrics that said, “If we had never met/And the world got on without us/Just as if we were never that at all,”We would still be looking for the next big thing and trying not to fall…
“Anything but love will do and hearts that beat like thunder.”For everyone but you, anything but love would be enough.
Larry David, who also stars on Curb Your Enthusiasm, and other famous people and social media users paid tribute to the late Richard Lewis.
“He’s been like a brother to me for most of my life,” he told HBO. “Richard and I were born three days apart in the same hospital.”
“He was the funniest and nicest person at the same time, which doesn’t happen very often.” The comedian told Variety, “But today he made me cry, and I’ll never forgive him for that.”
Cheryl Hines, who worked with Lewis on the hit show, wrote, “When I was young, I had the biggest crush on Richard Lewis.”

“There was no one funnier or more handsome on stage than him.” Then I got to work with him on Curb Your Enthusiasm, which was a dream come true.
“Over the years, I learned more about Richard and the gifts he gave.” I fell in love with him because he was funny, but he was also one of the nicest people I know.
“Especially in the last few years,” Cheryl said, “he would take the time to tell the people he loved how much they meant to him.” He told me how important I was to him and how much he loved me in between takes on Curb.
“To be loved by Richard Lewis.” A real gift. Richard, I love you. We will miss you. I love you, Joyce, and everyone in Richard’s family. Lawrence, Richard loved you…You already know that, though.
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