The Bush That Almost Wasn’t

Trees, flowers, bushes all are important and should be cared for, not taken out unless there’s a good reason. Especially those belonging to me! That’s why yesterday’s bush escapade was, while not dramatic, pretty amusing.

It was Sunday. I was still in my housecoat when I heard a truck stop out front. Curious about who and what, I peered out the window. A man got out of the truck, went to the back, pulled out a chain saw and tried to start it. This was interesting. Was he going to carry a running chain saw to one of my neighbor’s? Wasn’t that rather dangerous? And what was he going to cut down?

Finally, getting the motor running, he advanced toward the pretty green bush that sits at the end of my driveway. Wait! What was this? He was starting to cut my bush? Why?

No time to get dressed! A bush’s life depended on me. I pulled my house coat tight around me, yanked open the door and dashed down the sidewalk.

“Pardon me,” I yelled. “Can I help you, sir?”

Now, wasn’t that an extraordinarily courteous way to greet a person who was about to demolish a bit of my property? Don’t I deserve merits for not screaming, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Didn’t your daughter call and ask me to come help get her mother’s yard cleaned up?” he asked.

“I don’t have a daughter,” I said. “I didn’t call and I don’t want that bush cut.”

So, he flicked open his phone, checked through a list, and came up with a name.

“That’s not me,”I said. “That’s my neighbor. Try a couple of doors up the street.”

Looking abashed and mumbling an apology, he started off.

My bush, though quivering with anxiety, seemed to be grateful to have been saved from an untimely demise. What a way to start the morning!

Manos Meadows Mysteries
Cozies with an Extra Shiver

Blanche Day Manos author page

Warning: These are not bedtime stories.