Bring me a shrubbery


Meanwhile, in Poland.

Either I am an asshole, or people are really fucking stupid.

It could go either way.

Please do not contact me to work with you, if you cannot spell, or, at least use auto correct…. ON YOUR “PROFESSIONAL” WEBSITE.  C'mon!  Then have arrogant disregard for my very busy schedule, by asking me if my schedule conflicts are due to the lack of compensation for my time, AKA unpaid test.

And…………… to not “waist” her time.

on her website, she claims to take “privet” clients.

evergreen shrubbery.

My day cannot even begin to get better than this.

My reply, is no reply.

Bring Me A Shrubbery, Or: I Swear, Officer, I Did Not Kill My Neighbor

An officer of the law just came to my door asking many questions about the lady who lives next to us. Apparently some of her friends have become concerned because they have not heard from Yvonne, an elderly woman, in several weeks. Under questioning, I realized that I, also, have not seen her outside, puttering about, as is her daily habit, in several weeks. 

Now, the thing is, we’ve lived next to Yvonne on the right side, and the family of Amy & Matt and their two kids on the left for about ten years. Yvonne is kooky, but we certainly got along well. Last September she began taking weird raggedy cuts out of our flowering bushes (w the Orange flowers, where dozens of hummingbirds live most of the year) and I asked her four or five times to please STOP cutting into our high hedge, aka shrubbery.

Well, she wouldn’t stop. When Andy drove me home from having the twins by surprise C-section, after I’d been in hospital almost a week, the entire nine to twelve foot hedge/shrubbery, on our side and on her side, was gone.

I didn’t know what to do, she did it perhaps for a better view of us, (because we’re so lovely and fun to watch?) or she did it because she could? It just left our house completely unshaded, and totally exposed to all traffic on the upper major street. Plus I love privacy, almost as much as I love my hummingbirds.

In my confusion and disappointment (sort of like “it’s just a stupid hedge” and sort of like “that crazy so & so, how dare she”) I took the passive aggressive route, I’m sad to admit. I simply stopped speaking to her.

And now I may be a murder suspect.

This gives a whole new level of sinister intent to the old Monty Python skit that included the famous “Bring me a Shrubbery!” line we all used to make such jokes back in LRY groups in the late seventies.