LARGE GARDEN STATUES Selection, Information, Reviews

Large garden statue make for a fun way to add personality to your garden. Plants are an essential part of a garden, and a statue can never make that sort of claim on the area. However, a statue brings a sense of permanence to a garden that plants just don’t provide. Statues also give a much broader range of styles than you can get from plants. Nature is certainly an amazing muse, but the range of large garden statue is truly amazing when you stop to think about it. The first things that come to most people’s minds when they think of garden decorations are lawn gnomes. These cute little statues depict small, quaintly dressed people doing every day activities. They have been a mainstay in yard decorating for a long time. Their close cousin the plastic flamingo; gets an unfairly bad rap for being abused by some with poor taste. Both lawn gnomes and plastic flamingos can be used to great effect in a yard, as long as they are placed with some sense of restraint. They embody the whimsical, colorful side of large garden statue. There is a serious side to the genre as well. European walking gardens featured larger than life marble or granite statues. They could depict a ruler, or a favorite theme that the owner enjoyed, such as cherubs, wild game, or ordinary people. These types of statues are very traditional, dating back as far as ancient Greece, and possibly further. Metal is a newer medium for large garden statue, since casting a mold and pouring a solid metal statue is a newer form of statue making than using a hammer and chisel on stone. However, within the metal category there are welded modern statues that can capture the abstract nature of an idea far more eloquently than words ever could. Whether it’s a humanoid impression, or simply geometric shapes, these kinds of large garden statue are very popular today. So go buy a large garden statue, because large garden statues are where its at!

Her parents both have GREAT jobs, her mum travels a LOT, due to work. She is currently in Mexico. Anyway, she has 2 cars, a very large water bed and snooker table. A nice patio with large statues on them, a balcony, her own little lounge in the garden( ina very large shed) her own hang out room * NOT her bedroom) this room has its own stair and then a platform on top. She has two living rooms, and a large kitchen.

I am NOT a troll, this is very genuine.
They are not in much debt. And they have a lot in the bank, they are a close family Friend which is how I know:D

I often wondered, with England’s reputation for beautiful hedges and plants (and a climate ideally suited for growing lush greenery) why Buckingham Palace is so ugly.

The building itself is fine as a "palace", but it has that huge paved area in front of it, in front of that a large paved pedestrian area, then a huge paved round-a-bout. All of that together apears to be about a quarter mile of pavement in front of the Palace!

I always assumed "well, all the manicured box-hedges, statues and fountains must be behind the Palace, in the non public area. Nope. Did a google search, and the building is a square with a courtyard in the middle (also lacking the expected pathways, flower beds, ponds, etc) and behind the palace is a staircase that leads down to…a back yard. That’s it! Just a large expanse of grass, that was even brown in patches. I know Windsor and Balmoral are much more elaborate, but since Buckingham Palace is in London and the Queen’s official residence, (and the destination of many, many tourists) wouldn’t some english hedges and english roses dress up close to the building make it look much more appropriate? (I know that part of it the area is a parade ground, but they have that in front of parliament in Canada, and they do it on grass…so they could do it in England too.

Also, to quickly shoot down "they keep it clear so that no one can sneak in", picture the White House, the home of the leader of the free world, and how it is manicured with lawns, trees, rose gardens, etc, and no one sneaks in there. But they have snuck in Buckingham Palace even lacking any landscaping. (Also, there seems to be some random trees on the sides of Buckingham Palace, so a "no trees allowed near the Palace couldn’t be the reason.)

Imagine the palace, with beautiful english oaks, some sculpted hedeges along the driveway entrance, and a lush green lawn and fountains. More like Versailles and less like a old library or prison.

No wonder Diana hated it so much. She spoke of grey buildings, grey halls, grey weather and old grey men lurking about. Let’s spruce up the curb appeal of the Palace! Open up your little purse, Your Majesty, and plant some freaking shrubs! Your house looks like an abandoned asylum!

Please google an aerial photo before answering so you can see what I mean rather than answering based on patriotism or your opinion of the Royal Family. I am a fan of the Royal Family, and I think they deserve a more "grand" Palacial appearance to the outside of their home. Also the cost would be a drop in the bucket compared to other issues, so please no "it would cost too much" answers. The increase in tourism and national pride would outweigh any monetary costs. Thanks again!

Thanks!
Amazing how many people answered without reading. To address AGAIN the main points:

A) The BUILDING is fine. I meant the front and back yards.
B) You CAN troup the colours on the lawn, they do it all the time in Canada and USA.
C) I KNOW it is in London. There are trees along the sides, etc. I’m talking about tasteful , even MINIMAL landscaping around the big gray slab.
D) I LOOKED AT IT FROM GOOGLE EARTH. THERE ISN’T any large, extravagant gardens fountains pathways in the back. LOOK before you criticise.
E) Security is NOT a factor. Again, I point to the white house with its bushes, trees, gardens, etc.
F) Many people’s answer were more or less "because it’s in LONDON, duh". So what???? The White House is RIGHT in the middle off downtown Washington DC and they found are able to plant flowers and hedges, etc.

SO, if your answer is any off the above, they have been debunked. I want to know an ACTUAL reason that they’ve made it look as much like a vacant museum as possible without A

Hi recently i have purchased a big home in los angeles. In my home garden I want large oscar statues for decoration. So can you please suggest me one big store.

I have posted before, as a response to many others questions, the memories I have of a strange house that used to appear in my dreams. I am still waiting to see it again, but it never comes. Lately however, I have been finding myself wondering the halls of a new home in my dreams.

Click here to read about my original dream home:

http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index;_ylt=AlobsT1pQmAL7sibfMCByfvty6IX;_ylv=3?qid=20110307230140AAR7OnE

The new home is always owned by my mother (in contrast to the old house that always belonged to someone new whenever I’d find myself there) even if she doesn’t own it at the beginning of the dream, she always owns it in the end. There is a dusty ballroom with large windows, it has a huge fireplace (it can be another room within itself it is so huge inside) with andirons as tall as me and a broken and chipped marble hearth, a new pool table stands right in the middle of the ballroom. I think this room has maybe taken the place of my beloved Library in my original dream house. It’s always flooded though. There is a busted pipe somewhere in the walls and the floor is always sloshy and wet.

Last night, in my dream, my father was a rich man. He owned a country club or something and he threw a party for me at his estate. I was having a good time, in my dream I was a teenager (I’m really 25) and there were a lot of cute guys there, but suddenly they all became too intense for me to talk to, they all wanted to impress me and my father and all they would talk about was money and how they were making theirs. I became disgusted and walked away looking for a darker place, somewhere to be alone, I found myself in a garden. One of the men followed me in the shadows and, this is where the dream got a little hairy, I think I was raped. I fell asleep crying on a bench in a gazebo surrounded by dead rosebushes.

When I woke up (in my dream) I was on the same bench, but the gazebo was gone, and not only that, but the entire house was gone. All around me were piles of stone and slabs of wood, movers were packing marble statues and paintings into moving trucks, the only thing that hadn’t been taken apart was the bench I awoke on.

I asked around to find out if anyone knew what was going on, but no one answered me. I heard one man say "He’s done this before you know, fifteen years ago, when his first daughter died, he packed up his entire household and moved away" I was shaking. I ran down an old dirt road lined with piles of wood. I kept telling myself "He can’t move away, not without me". I ran for miles and found myself in a small town. The road I was running on ended at a park. I tried to talk to a few more people, but no one answered me except for one man. He told me where I could find the new house and pointed me in the direction I should go.

I started out running, but suddenly I was driving (I think we’ve all had that happen in a dream) and my mother was next to me. There was nothing extravagant about her, she looked just as she does in life. She was going on and on about her new home and she was telling me how to get there. When we pulled up I was in awe. The building was old and needed a lot of work, it looked like what I imagine Dracula’s castle may have looked like, but that’s the kind of place I love.

I stayed the night there with her there, we wandered the halls and explored passageways. She said that she had won the place in a poker bet and that the guy who lost didn’t seem too broken up about it. "One person’s garbage…" she said. We wondered where the kitchen might be so we went downstairs to look for it and that’s when we found the ballroom. I kept saying "this is so familiar" (and it was, I have had another dream about the same place, only in that dream there was some pagan-like ceremony going on in the ballroom, it was very ‘Eyes Wide Shut’).

We walked through the ballroom and as we did we smelled warm bread baking, we followed the scent and it lead us to the kitchen where we found a little man wearing a red double-breasted jacket with black pinstripes and a black toque. He looked like a chef in a zoot suit. We asked him what he was doing there and he said he and the house were a "two for" and we couldn’t have one without the other. I said "Oh, so you’re our live in chef then?" he said "Sort of" and smiled.

He showed us to the wing where the bed chambers were, and we fell asleep in separate rooms. I woke up screaming in the middle of the night (in my dream) and my mother brought me into her room. There in her bed was my neighbor (The man who lives next door to me in real life. I don’t like him, he wigs me out, there is something about him that I don’t trust) and I freaked to find out that he was sharing a bed with my mother. He saw me trembling and told me he could hypnotize me to find out what I was so afraid
… of.

He got me through the first steps of hypnosis, my whole body was relaxed and I felt carefree. Then he asked if I remembered when I died. That’s when I woke up.
Yes but there are no changes in my life. There is nothing in my life, nothing eventful. I rent, I am not working, I am bored out of my mind, I cannot find a job, I recently got a roommate but it’s almost like she doesn’t live here because she has two jobs and usually stays at her boyfriends 2 or 3 nights a week. My mother is trying to get me to move in with her, so I can understand how she fits into the dream, but there’s no room for me at her place, and I really don’t want to move in with my mother again. Nothing I am doing will help me to achieve my goals because I am doing nothing. I hate it but I don’t know what to do with myself.

Do you think my writing is any good?

Anabelle arose from her bed with alacrity, smirking. She dressed quickly, donning a black cloak of Verentel, and gazed out the window. It was night time, about nine o’clock, and nigh time for Anabelle to worship her deity in solemnity. She approached the small table in the corner of the room, grabbing a dagger and dropping it into the pocket of her cloak.
Anabelle left her bedroom, crossing into the den. Next to the fireplace there was a large black altar upon which stood a small statue of a curvaceous and beautiful elf. The statue was a representation of Verentel, morose goddess of lust and darkness. Anabelle nodded at the visage with a grim smile as she walked towards the front door. She extended her hand towards the ornate door knob, which stood in stark contrast to the simplicity of her home, opened the door and went behind the house. There was a small garden with a solitary bush of sanguine roses, and Anabelle knelt down and pulled one, carrying it back into her cottage and laying it on the altar as a token offering to the goddess. She prepared her mind for prayer, and applied black lipstick in globs.
Kneeling, with her orange eyes wide open, she spoke in nigh a whisper, “Verentel, goddess of lechery, most beautiful and entrancing of all creatures in the world, I pray that you grant me ardency and expediency in the work that I do for you tonight. Let the weak fall to their most primal desires, and realize that there is no denying who they are – what they are. I pray that my acts satisfy you, and that you will reveal the joys of submission to your will to other sentient creatures. Let it be so.”
Anabelle stood up and began to walk towards the door. She turned around and smiled once more at the small statue before striding outside and beginning to walk westward.

This is for my creative writing group, so don’t worry if you don’t get the plot or anything…not that there is much here. Do you like my style? How can I improve it? Would you read something this descriptive, or would it bore you? Is my writing too detached and unemotional? Is this over-the-top descriptive?

The wind blew from the east, scattering shards of leaves and dried-out petals and yellowed blades of grass across the Stone Garden. It smelled and tasted like Autumn. The Stone Garden itself wasn’t large; it was comprised of a series of interlocking grey stone plates that formed paths, terraces and junctions locked in a maze of flower beds and hedges and shrubberies. All were pruned to perfection, not one curious tendril creeping out of place. Some were little higher than a child’s ankle, while others towered over the heads of the guards who patrolled the Seat of the Eshani, to which the Stone Garden was attached. The Seat itself was a great stone building, made of a different rock to the Stone Garden, big enough to house the five hundred residents comfortably.
In the centre of the Stone Garden was a statue of the first Eshani, Loraleiya of Riem. She sat casually, clad in stone armour with a spear held loosely in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, gazing blindly over the lake where the Garden ended. Servants and Priestesses alike within the Seat of Eshani approached the statue hesitantly, their eyes lingering a little too long on her cold, blank face. They would place a bouquet of flowers at her feet, bow in reverence, then scurry back to their duty before they were missed.
Few people were exempt from this unofficial ritual. I was one of them. Although I often passed the statue of the first Eshani, I never laid flowers around her ankles, I never bowed in respect, and I never hurried back to my duty.
I had no duty. In the Seat of the Eshani, I was largely ignored.
On that early Autumn morning, I sat silently behind the statue of the first Eshani in the middle of a collection of old books in a sprawl around me. The wind gently tossed the open pages back and forth, dried vegetation catching between the folds. The ancient leather bindings creaked as I pulled them slowly open, scouring their pages for new knowledge.
Boots clinked heavily on the paving as another guard patrol approached. Hazy sunlight glinted off their bronze plating, casting gold light across the floor and onto the statue. They paused, pressing a hand to their hearts and bowing, before moving on. Their eyes passed over me like I was another part of the Garden.
Their rudeness should have offended me, but it didn’t. I had lived my entire life enclosed within the walls and guard patrols of the Seat of the Eshani, where I was treated like part of the furnishings; something ornamental, but not remarkable. On the contrary, their treatment of me had become useful. I was not disturbed when I read in unusual places, or when I walked paths taken only by servants.
By the age of sixteen, I was used to the passive shunning of the residents of the Seat of the Eshani. My very face marked me as different; round blue eyes set into pale skin, framed by waves of light brown hair. Most of the residents, priestesses, servants and guards, were tanned from constant outdoor work, and had the dark hair and dark eyes of the local people. I knew of one person who looked anything like me, and she had died many years ago.
As the shadows of the guards retreated, I focused hard on my studies. The tutors made up the majority of the people who didn’t ignore me, though I was taught separately from the bulk of the classes, and I was taught different things. The novice priestesses learned beekeeping and horticulture and cooking and healing, the steps in the rituals of birth and death, and the words of the many Eshani, passed down in great musty tomes like the ones I had in front of me. I was taught history; the history of the Eshani, the history of other races and peoples, and the history of the rise and fall of the Fourth Empire, before the Eshani and her priestesses had retreated to their secluded seat in the mountains and devoted themselves to themselves.
Every few days I would memorise a new story from one of the books. Though I knew it wasn’t a story, sometimes they were so fantastical I treated them as such. When the weather was pleasant, I would sit in one of the sun rooms or in the Stone Garden, where I could study in peace away from the hubbub of the main part of the Seat. At first I had found it unbearably dull; I would retreat to a secluded part of the Stone Garden and hide, waiting for one of my tutors to find me and chastise me for refusing to learn, but as I grew older I realised I had nothing else to do, and I learned to enjoy it.
I was reading the story of Uetis, a great king from the Far Lands, who had fallen from grace among his people and reduced to a maddened wreck in the forests when I first heard her voice.

sorry it’s very long

The wailing of sirens had stopped a while ago but the tears pouring from the mothers eyes did not. She sobbed as she tried to explain coherently to the young officer what had happened the night her daughter had gone missing.
“She usually gets the bus,” she sobbed. “But she called to say she was going to walk.” Her voice broke and she let her head fall into her hands. “I waited and waited for her” she mumbled “but she never came back.”
She wailed and Matt fidgeted nervously. He never spoke to the victims. That was more Maria’s job.
“I can assure you, we are doing everything we can to find your daughter.” He said as he prepared to leave. They had searched every inch of the house looking for indications to why she was gone, but nothing was found, no clues or traces to her disappearance. The mother looked up at him with bloodshot eyes, like a child pleading for help.
The tension in the room was getting too much for Matt. He stood up and reassured the mother a final time as he left and swiftly made his way back to the car. The others soon followed after he motioned for them to call it a day.
“Do you think it’s an actual missing person case?” Matt asked, sounding a little fed up because lately, there had been a lot of kidnappings that had turned out to be children playing games.
Maria thought for a while, “I have doubts,” She sighed, Matt nodded in agreement, “what’s the time?”
He automatically glanced at his watch “two” he replied “just after, why?”
“I’m starving. Do you want to see if Chris left us anything for lunch?”
Christopher was Matt’s brother, he didn’t work for the police, he always said that he wasn’t comfortable controlling people; he believes that they should have more freedom.
When they arrived at the house that the three of them shared, they were surprised to see Chris standing outside holding two paper bags, “hey, guys!” he called and jogged up to them. He threw his arms round their necks and handed them the bags “leftovers from dinner on tuesday, enjoy!”
“Great, thanks Chris” Maria started to head towards the front door of the house. It was a large white cottage that stood on a vast garden. Bizarre statues of animals were scattered around giving it an almost ominous feel.
Matt had already finished his meal by the time they were inside, “that was good, first proper meal I’ve had in days,”
“It’s good to have you home again.” Chris paused “Have you had any more,” he cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head nervously “disappearances?”
Matt let out a heavy sigh “yes, a young girl went missing last night; we can’t be sure whether it’s real or not.”
“Oh” was all Chris replied.

“Okay Miss, thank you for your time.” Matt and Liam left. Liam was another officer who had been reassigned to help with this case. They had just spoken to the last witness of the missing girl.
As they drove away from the house Liam reread the notes he had written down.
“Ok, the witness walked past the girls house at around three ten, which would be about right if you go by foot from the school to her home, she waved to the girl before entering her house and that was the last she saw of her.” He slammed the notepad shut harshly, “Wow. What a clear lead.”
Matt groaned, he wasn’t in a good mood either, “Yeah. Damn. Nobody has called the family so we’re assuming it’s not a kidnap,”
“It’s been three weeks and there are no leads whatsoever,” he shook his head then paused, “What if she’s just being kept?”
A wave of uneasy silence swept over us. “Don’t say that Liam” Matt muttered.
Liam looked out the window “I’m just saying.” Matt drove in silence. The radio suddenly crackled to life.
“Matt? Liam?” It was Maria calling them.
“Yes Maria, what is it? Over.”
“Come to thirty Oak Lane. Over.”
“Why? What happened there? Over.” Liam asked as Matt made a U-turn
Maria’s hesitant reply made Matt nervous and he held his breath.
“There has been another, disappearance” she paused “I’ll see you there. Over.”
When they reached the house Maria was already inside attempting to calm the panicking parents. It went the same as before, questions were asked, answers weren’t fully given, sobs, tears. And again, they were left with no traces.

since it wont all fit here ill post a second question with it
i wrote it for GCSE english so please can you give constructive criticism and feedback?
thank you so much
x
part 2 http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index;_ylt=AtHehaRWtX_bnWUTJtyFJnzty6IX;_ylv=3?qid=20101130081112AAYG9d4