Chris Johnson: There’s no place like gnome

Building a house is a long, tiring process — and it seems even longer in the midst of another ridiculously hot Georgia summer.

Not that we’re actually building a new home. No, we’re actually just handing out checks to people. Our actual builder calls these “draws” because that sounds better than, “Huge amounts of money going to people who were supposed to be done last week and might actually arrive next week to begin the all-important construction phase of throwing empty bottles and cigarette butts on your lot, which will be $12,000 if you don’t mind.”

However, we have worked very hard to landscape a hill behind the under-construction house so that when we do move in — a date we’ve optimistically scheduled for August 14, 2045 — we can enjoy the view from the back porch. Of course, by that time my eyesight probably will have gone and I might be in a nursing home anyway.

Nearly every day after work we go check on the lack of progress and to piddle in the yard. I’ve found that you can lose about 200 pounds of water weight while piddling in June and July. I weighed 195 when this project began and now weigh about the same amount as the helium in a birthday balloon — and I’m worth about the same amount, as well.

What’s most aggravating about this whole process is seeing folks’ homes going up faster than yours. But few have gone up faster than Mr. Kendall’s.

Mr. Kendall’s home appeared practically overnight directly behind our home, despite the fact that the main reason we bought this lot was that we were assured it was completely unbuildable behind us. We’ve had neighbors behind us and found we don’t like humans living that close to us, particularly if they’re loud, overweight and often shirtless.

Fortunately, Mr. Kendall is not loud, although he is mildly chubby. Thankfully, he keeps his shirt on at all times. His home also is very short, so I can still see into the beautiful trees going up the hillside that rides on a slope behind us. And, best of all, Mr. Kendall is not human.

Mr. Kendall is about 4 inches tall and apparently lives in a stump just behind our back porch. I assume he lives in it, although I’m not sure he can fit through the door, especially if he leaves his pointy hat on.

I do appreciate that Mr. Kendall is an environmentally conscious neighbor. Seeing that a tree had been fallen and a stump left behind, he converted it into a home rather than building anew. For that reason alone, I’ve decided not to go to the city and see if he truly owns that 1 square yard of property behind the house.

I do suspect my wife had something to do with bringing in this new neighbor as she looked at that stump and thought that she might be able to make something useful out of it — same way she looked at me and thought she might be able to make something useful. Maybe the second time will be the charm for her.

I do have one piece of advice for Mr. Kendall, though, besides continuing to keep it quiet in the backyard that I call Margaritahill: Beware of snakes. I saw a 4-foot king snake yesterday while planting some bushes. Because he may actually be of some service, I’m also allowing him to stay in the backyard.

Besides, he’s not a threat to humans. I don’t know, however, how he feels about gnomes.

This story was originally published July 2, 2016 at 8:25 PM with the headline "Chris Johnson: There’s no place like gnome."