Jul 9, 201208:51 AMPlain Jane
Because Moms Can't Be Afraid to Tell it Like it is
Bush-whackers
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.
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