Jul 9, 201208:51 AMPlain Jane
Because Moms Can't Be Afraid to Tell it Like it is
You know the type—the ones who live in the houses with perfectly landscaped yards. I'm not one of those people and I often wonder, are their home interiors as pristine as their exteriors? And if they are, wouldn't that be totally annoying? I guess the only way to find out the truth would be to interview one of them, but I really don't have the time. You see, I have my own front yard to tackle—especially that stupid bush.
Smack-dab in the middle of my flowerbed grows a lone, humongous shrub. It flowers once a year, blazes with tiny, beautiful, green leaves all summer, then transforms into a brown mass of twigs during the winter. I hate this bush.
Last year I tried to trim it. I broke out our hedge clippers and, in my mind, would easily transform the leviathan into a perfect square like they show in the fancy home magazines.
Two hours later, waist-deep in shrub guts, the beast before me was now more of a rhombus than perfect square. That was the head-on angle. From the right side, it looked like a deformed lump of mashed potatoes and, from the left, a harshly angled fade-back with a giant hole in the middle.
I then made the mistake of asking the bald man to take a look. I can't repeat what he said when he saw it, but it rhymed with "moldy pit." After 10 minutes of hysterical laughter, he took a stab at what was left of it. By day's end, we had created a stump.
I hoped it would just die and put us all out of our misery. No such luck. This year, that bush is once again a gigantic mess and needs to be trimmed immediately. By a professional. Or maybe one of those people whose landscapes would never harbor such a flower bed fugitive. Anybody know one? I have tons of questions.