|Julia's broken pot garden for the tiniest scale of mini fairy stuff.|
I am jealous.
Things have changed.
Last year, she decided to go off on her own. Across the front yard in the other mulch bed under the other giant oak tree.
"Let's make it a competition!" she said.
So last year, the first fairy gardens after the schism were judged very unfairly by my husband.
"They're just different styles," he said. "I can't say one is better than the other."
He was lying. Julia refused to put any of the adorable tiny plants in her garden that make a fairy area spectacular.
Mine was better. Hers was a barren wasteland.
|Carnival rides from Michael's (the craft store) and a diner|
from Michael Brothers (the nursery).
Her fairy garden is awesome. She calls it Smallville. Which is a perfect name.
I admit defeat.
|Carefully placed pebble paths, tiny furniture, an|
adorable tiny door.
|She has a water feature! With tiny little koi!|
I vote that we no longer have this "competitive fairy gardening" business. But just for comparison, here's what I've got going on under my tree:
|The main part of my fairy village. My plants are going wild.|
|A wishing well with not enough pebbles for the path.|
I'm picky about pebbles.
|A church with a random weather vane.|
|A door into the oak tree, a fairy mail box, and the rear view|
of the fairy house I decoupaged myself. Check out that stone chimney!
|Also, a real live chipmunk lives in my fairy garden.|
This is the goal of parenting: to eventually be surpassed by your offspring. At least in this one area, I have achieved that goal, but I have major fairy garden envy!