Get the Yucca Out of My Yard

Get the Yucca Out of My Yard

yuccaUsually when you purchase a new home that’s not actually “new” (let’s say, about 40 years old) spring is full of surprises. There should be some rogue daffodils and iris sprouting up about the yard somewhere, perhaps a peony or two along borders, and maybe even a few flowering bushes around the foundation.

So it makes me very sad to know our little house must have been neglected through the years, because, other than what we have planted, we only have one thing growing in our yard – it’s a yucca (aptly named in my opinion). How can this be?  How can there not be one spot of spring color on a whole quarter-acre lot? Besides, I thought yucca were for places like Arizona and New Mexico (although it seems to be thriving quite nicely here).

I hate to do this to any plant that seems to be loving life in its designated spot, put I’m afraid the yucca is out of here. In it’s place, I’m planning a cottage garden full of vibrant color and craziness. Maybe I can find a nice “out-of-the-way spot” for transplanting this sticky spiked green thing. . . like way on out in the yard of someone else. Bye bye pointy plant, hello butterfly lovin’ flowers.

yucca

A Fine Thursday in Topeka

It was “Take Your Toddler to School Day” for my niece’s parenting class, so I dropped off my son at Topeka West High School this morning and found myself with two hours to kill in a town where I know nothing. With my handy GPS (more fondly know as Lola) in search mode, I started looking for a quaint resale shop or antique market, but what I found was something entirely different. . . in a good way.

In the spot where the antique store was suppose to be, I found a strip mall and a fabric store. I thought that might be a good way to pass the time, and as I drove closer I noticed a large crowd gathering outside said store and signs on the window reading “Huge Sale” and “Fabulous Prizes.” Then I thought, “This really is going to be good.” So like a lemming, I piled into the back of crowd and waited for the doors to open.

As I looked around, I noticed lots of folks holding letters, so I eyeball dropped over someone’s shoulder and read that this was a special invitation event. Hmmmmm. . .  I began talking to folks and told them how I came to be there and discovered I had to have a letter, or be the friend of a letter holder, to get through the doors. Well of course, I quickly adopted a new friend, Melanie, and she immediately vouched for me as we entered the store.

I bought material, I bought quilt patterns, I bought basting, and I could have bought more. Thanks Fabric Corner, thanks New Friend Melanie, thanks to the girl cutting my material just helping her mother on her “day off”  and thanks to the interesting people in all the lines. You made a little lemming from out-of-town feel very welcomed on a fine Thursday morning in Topeka.

Daddy Loves Water Babies, Momma Hates Shaving

It’s Water Babies time again, and I think I’ve finally figured out why my husband gets so excited that I’m taking our son to the pool each week. I suspect he isn’t really excited that my son seems to actually enjoy the water, or that I get to have some bonding time with our little one, or even that our son is one step closer to learning to swim. I’m thinking, now I could be wrong here, but I’m thinking it’s because I shave. . . everywhere.

Now mind you, it’s not like I haven’t shaved at least a few appropriate spots all winter. I don’t totally embrace my French heritage (I love the French, by the way) and go all natural. My underarms do get a good shearing at least twice a week. [If this is all T.M.I., you have my permission to stop reading here and just move onto one of my other reviting posts here at Small Talk Mama.]

My legs, on the other hand, do not feel a razor quite as often during the winter. When you’re one of those dark-headed gals who has a five o’clock leg shadow at the end of the day, you tend to give the shaving a break during the cold months. And of course, you never know when you might get caught in a snow storm and need that extra insulation to survive a very cold night. Am I right?

Then there is the bikini line – appropriately named, I think. Regardless of my husband’s references to Gallagher, why should I have to shave my bikini line if I am not wearing a bikini, or any other type of swimsuit for that matter. There will be enough shaving and itching (you ladies know of what I speak) when springtime and summer come around each year. I’ve tried other hair removal techniques for this area, but waxing where the sun don’t shine just doesn’t cut it in my book.

No, the honeymoon is not over, so to speak; but I’m not making any apologies or promises related to my shaving habits. In fact, I think it’s rather sexy when my husband doesn’t shave for a few days, so what’s a few months?

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