We are looking into the garden ornaments issue. You can also try reading the tub of logs for instructions and PONDERing the logs themselves for a short list of options!
You cannot take a garden gnome, as it does not belong to you.
His once-regal posture shattered by cracked paint and rain-damage, a garden gnome stands here wanly.
Cast from terracotta and standing approximately two feet in height, this stout fellow possesses a fulsome beard, the only feature of his body unravaged by exposure to frequent rains. Atop his sullen visage, a long, green conical hat teeters awkwardly, the fabric long-since deprived of cohesion and all paint cracked and chipped beyond repair. His deep black eyes command only a mournful, maudlin expression, as if this once-great horticultural decoration was aware of his own imminent demise. Boots of dark brown poke out from the hem of ragged blue trousers, a brown waistcoat and grey shirt, warped such that the clay depiction of his massive belly bulges out with no clothing to conceal it. Desperately clutched in one podgy hand, a spoiled pipe hangs limp and useless, while the other grasps with futility at some absent trinket, no doubt filched by the wind.
(D.M.A.): Cooper says, "Kyrra is either the most innocent person in the world, or the girl who uses the most innuendo seemingly unintentionally but really on purpose."
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His once-regal posture shattered by cracked paint and rain-damage, a garden gnome stands here wanly.
Cast from terracotta and standing approximately two feet in height, this stout fellow possesses a fulsome beard, the only feature of his body unravaged by exposure to frequent rains. Atop his sullen visage, a long, green conical hat teeters awkwardly, the fabric long-since deprived of cohesion and all paint cracked and chipped beyond repair. His deep black eyes command only a mournful, maudlin expression, as if this once-great horticultural decoration was aware of his own imminent demise. Boots of dark brown poke out from the hem of ragged blue trousers, a brown waistcoat and grey shirt, warped such that the clay depiction of his massive belly bulges out with no clothing to conceal it. Desperately clutched in one podgy hand, a spoiled pipe hangs limp and useless, while the other grasps with futility at some absent trinket, no doubt filched by the wind.