I made the Curmudgeon Societé Generale position on lawn tchotchkes quite clear back a year ago in May: avoid. This was before my Sainted wife set her sights on wind chimes.
These things offend on multiple levels - they don't just sit there and annoy like most tchotchkes; they make noise, too.
In an afternoon breeze, these things can actually be...as annoying as fingernails on a chalkboard. In a movie, they are used for like 5 seconds - at best - to set a mood. In real life, well, the movie people smartly limited things to a few seconds: the constant noise makes you want to commit murder.
So I, ever the caring curmudgeonly husband, got a new chime. It sounded just like a Maine coast bell buoy in the fog. Sort of fighting fire with fire.
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