As a result of my very generous unplanned donation to my parents church last week, I now found myself to be totally broke and unable to go to the pub or hang out with any of my friends.
(see last weeks entry Welcome Back for the background to these events)

Still looking after my parents home while they were enjoying a holiday, my week therefore consisted of getting up, letting out their horrible dog Charlie, going to work, coming home and feeding and walking the filthy ungrateful beast and cleaning up after the disgusting animal.

Things were not good. The only thing that had made the week even tolerable was the fact I found my Dad's liquor cabinet key and was able to enjoy a wide variety of his expensive premium booze which occasionally upset my stomach as I was only accustomed to drinking the cheap stuff, but the discomfort was well worth it.

When Saturday morning came around and I was still one week away from my next paycheque, I was bored to death & had finally had enough. I decided to invite a few friends over for a BBQ that evening and proceeded to unthaw some of the many t-bone steaks that Dad kept in the downstairs freezer.

I then figured to even things out, I would do the spring cleanup of my parents front and back yard as well as all the flower beds. This would please my parents and also make the yard looking quite respectable for when my friends arrived.

After picking up all the years garbage in the yard, cutting and raking both the front and back lawn and then putting on the hose to water them, I focused my attentions on the last task of the day being cleaning up and weeding Mom's prized flower beds.

A few years ago she had won a couple of local contests for her flower beds and since then they have been her pride and joy. She usually spends hours working on them every year although this year she is overseas on holiday for the next few weeks, I figured I would surprise her and have it all clean and ready for her when they returned. What a good son I am.

I picked and pulled and weeded the front flower beds for about a half hour and noticed that Mom had really let things go this year with all the damn weeds popping up in her little garden. The flower bed was full of these weeds. When Mom was younger she would never tolerate this. It is unfortunate, but I guess it's the little things that go first as you get older. Sad really.

I went over to the garage to get the shovel and as I grabbed it & closed the door behind me I realized that I forgot that the keys were still inside. Damn!

The stupid door was now locked with the house and garage keys inside. I tried shaking the knob on the door, then picking it with a screwdriver and when both of these failed, I gave it a good hard kick which almost broke my leg.

As I proceeded to curse the door using every loud obscenity I had ever been taught, I figured I would try one more strategically placed kick.

This kick failed to do anything but knock me over on my back and into a little parcel that Charlie had recently deposited on the lawn. "You filthy bastard", I yelled towards the dog as I got back up and was hobbling around the back yard on my now one good leg. I really hated that dog and this was yet just another reason to continue to do so.

My extreme cursing and swearing appeared to attract the head of a young lady from next door which popped over the fence and stated "You know you really shouldn't kick that door. The door and the frame are both made of steel. I can open it for you if you like"

This was a stroke of luck. I asked her if she was a locksmith and she laughingly said "No, just the neighbour with a spare key".

I was quite angry at the fact Dad replaced the old door and frame with a steel one without telling me. Had everyone in this neighbourhood become paranoid about security. Damn old fools.

The girl came over and introduced herself as my parents neighbour Amy, and quickly unlocked the door for me. I was very thankful and somewhat embarrassed about the whole situation so I apologized to her over the foul language she may have overheard.

She seemed very attractive so I attempted some light conversation as I limped around the yard. "I thought that old drunken Irishman Mr. Kennedy was still next door, Mom didn't tell me that he had moved away"

Amy looked at me and dryly informed me that he had in fact not moved & she was Mr. Kennedy's daughter, and had moved in with her father a few months ago.

Once again I apologized for my crude remarks & she responded laughing "Why are you apologizing, he's MY father"

I really liked this girl and she seemed to have a great evil sense of humour which made her even much more attractive.

I dragged my now aching body over to the flower bed where I was about to turn the dirt when Amy suddenly yelled "I don't think you should be digging up your mothers flower bed, she is very proud about all her beautiful plants. I can help you, I am a horticulturalist"

I started laughing at this word and told her "That's all right, I don't pass moral judgements upon people"

She giggled at that and said "You don't know what a horticulturist is, do you"?

Looking down at the ground I muttered "No, not really"

Amy then stated, "You laughed only because of the first syllable in the word, didn't you" ?

She was definitely a very perceptive girl. I looked at the ground sheepishly and admitted this to be true.

She explained it was the job of agricultural scientists to find better ways to grow & harvest plants of all kinds.

Amy then looked over at the pile of weeds I had just pulled out & noticed that ALL of them were Mom's plants and not one was a weed!

As I panicked she advised that she just might be able to help me being that she was a horticulturist. I did not laugh this time at her job title because of the desperate situation I had put myself in. If I had killed all of Mom's plants, she would most certainly kill me when she found out.

How stupid I thought, these bloody plants all look like weeds when they first come out of the ground. I don't know how Mom can tell the difference. What a pain.

Amy began to go to work gently digging and taking the plants from the garbage heap and planting them back in the flower bed. As she did so she would give me the Latin name of the plant and a short description which I was really in no mood to hear about.

"This one is a 'Stupid-name-us' and this one is a 'I-dont-give-a-shittus' is all I could hear from her. I don't understand Latin and this was not the time to start. Finally the pressure was too much and I said "Yes, that is all very fascinating but perhaps we can save the information session to after we know I did not kill all of Mom's plants"

I then asked if I could do anything to help and she said "Yes, quickly go into the kitchen and get me a beer and please change that shirt of yours, you smell like dog crap"

I had forgotten all about the accident earlier when I fell in the damn dogs crap pile so I quickly obeyed orders and grabbed a couple beers, changed my shirt, put on some cologne and returned to the scene of the crime where Amy miraculously was just finishing up.

She advised that she was able to save about 90% of them and I was extremely grateful and very much relieved. I know if Mom had come home and found out what I had done she would have never forgiven me.

Amy stated "It was lucky you didn't do something stupid like try and burn these flowers to get rid of them. If you had done that I couldn't have saved any of them and you probably would have burned down your parents house as well"

I laughed nervously and agreed that would have been really stupid, hoping she had not noticed the gas can and lighter I had sitting behind my car.

She then informed me that she would keep an eye on the plants over the next couple of weeks since they needed some extra attention after their traumatic adventure.

I jokingly muttered that I also had been involved in this very traumatic adventure and would also enjoy her extra attention. I then invited her over later that evening to meet my friends and come for the BBQ.

Kevin, Samantha, John, Maria, Rich and Damian had already arrived and we were all sitting out joking in the newly groomed back yard having drinks when Amy arrived. She looked gorgeous and I immediately introduced her to the group.

"Amy is a hor-ticulturist", I informed the gang as they all began cracking up.

"Stop pausing so long after the first syllable when you say my job, that is so immature", Amy advised laughingly.

Finally someone with a good sense of humour. This was going to be a good night.