Silliness in strange times

Outside a modest house in our neighbourhood, where laundry hangs to dry, the homeowner has gone to great lengths to add something fun for people to enjoy. Passersby were doing double takes at the sight of a woman in a bathtub on the boulevard. Photo by John Denniston.

Here she is, Lorelei, with an empty wineglass, a rubber duck contributed by a neighbour, and a tummy covered in soil where plants will flourish this summer. The creator of the display, clearly a gardener, said she added earthworms to the soil, as it would be difficult for them to make their way up to the bathtub. Photo by John Denniston.

A couple of years ago, a bench appeared on the boulevard outside a modest corner house in the 3400 block of Collingwood. It was a pleasant bench, notable for the serene Jane Austen quote it bore, along with the obvious care that had been taken to beautify it for bench-users – planters with flowers on each side, and a plot of flowers in front.

Lately, an old-fashioned bathtub, chic navy blue with saucy yellow feet, appeared on the same boulevard. A great big planter? we asked when we passed it a week ago. On Saturday evening, we got our answer. The tub was indeed filled with soil, but lying in it was a sultry mannequin with honey-blonde hair and sunglasses, checking out the empty wineglass in her hand. Her tummy was covered with soil embedded with sweet alyssum and cranesbill geraniums; the bathtub itself sat in a newly planted periwinkle plot.

The point is fun, according to the display’s creator, who came out of her house while we were there to replace the mannequin’s wig. It had fallen off in the breeze, and she was pondering how to keep it on during the day but still be able to remove it at night. She said she’d found most of the materials for the planter in second-hand shops, but she had to buy the mannequin new. And when she did, she wanted one that would lift people’s spirits, especially in these difficult times.

Hence, Lorelei – named after the legendary Rhine maiden of irresistible attractiveness to sailors. The mannequin seemed to be living up to her name. While we were there taking pictures, a man in a black SUV drove past, slowed, grinned, and said: “Is that for real?” before snapping a photo from his window. Then he drove on, but changed his mind, parked, and came back with his camera to properly document it all. At another point, a woman came out of a back alley with her cellphone to take some pictures too.

We were only there for about 20 minutes, but it seemed clear the display was achieving its creator’s goal. Strangers were smiling and talking to each other (while maintaining the regulation distance); a silly scene had created a sense of fun and community in these isolating times. As we walked up Collingwood toward home, we heard pot-banging and jangling and whoops and hollers marking the daily 7 p.m. tribute to medical workers. More silliness to join us and help us along the way.

My friend Linda enjoys the bench on the same boulevard where Lorelei now reigns. This photo was taken a couple of years ago when the bench was new; the homeowner has since added pots for plants on each side and planted a clematis to climb up the tree behind the bench.