“I promise not to hurt you, unless you try to take my shit.
Then I'll twist your head off and hide it in a bush somewhere.”
-- Cedric Nye, The Road to Hell is Paved With Zombies
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| Zombie scarecrow 6-23-13 |
“Brains, BRAINS, BRains, brains, BRAINS.
BRaiNS, brains, Brains, BRAINS, BRains, brains, BRAINS.
BRAINS, BRains, brains, BRAINS, brains.”
BRaiNS, brains, Brains, BRAINS, BRains, brains, BRAINS.
BRAINS, BRains, brains, BRAINS, brains.”
-- Ryan Mecum, Zombie Haiku: Good Poetry for Your ... Brains
I planted a lovely vegetable garden earlier this spring.
It is fenced in and gated to keep out the rabbits and squirrels.
And now, for extra protection, it has a zombie scarecrow as a security guard.
He is guardin' my garden.
The way I see it, scarecrows are scary enough as it is.
Zombies are even scarier.
So the one-two punch of scarecrow and zombie is a fright cocktail that should keep out anything with a brain.
My son, Leo, helped me build this scarecrow, which is standing sentinel between the yellow zucchini and the red bell peppers.
I, of course, made the face. I made it from a Styrofoam wig head, some spray paint, some polymer clay rotted teeth and raffia (for hair).
Leo provided the arrow penetrating the zombie scarecrow's heart, as well as the materials for the dangling eyeball (covered wire and a bouncy ball). He also helped me pick out the zombie scarecrow's wardrobe at the thrift store. (I particularly love the adorable little -- er, I mean super scary -- Freddy Krueger sweater.)
Leo also built the frame and distressed the clothing, and he made the hands.
A zombie scarecrow really is the best kind of scarecrow.
Think about it.
I don't have to worry about him eating my broccoli, zucchinis, cucumbers, peppers, basil and tomatoes, because zombies don't eat vegetables.
Zombies eat brains.
And vegetable plants don't have brains.
Except cauliflower kind of looks like brains.
And I am growing three cauliflower plants.
I will keep a dangling eyeball on those.
