Would you laugh, or cry?

I've probably mentioned that I am trying to sell my house. So it goes without saying (she says) that I am trying to keep it clean and groomed looking. I remarked out loud the other day that I was going to get a handyman to trim the hedge in my front yard. It was getting too tall and to unkempt looking. Not totally terrible, but I thought a neater look was in order. Better curb appeal. I had gotten one estimate for several hundred dollars, and had no intention of paying that, so I was calling a few local handy guys. And, blabbermouth that I am, I mentioned all of this to my sister and Nancy, one of her friends.

Just when you start to feel that life has no more surprises, you get a surprise. Yesterday I got home about 8:00 pm, tired and looking forward to an hour of rest before bedtime. As I drove up to my house I looked in horror to see, in the dim light of a long day, a pile, of brush about 4 feet high and covering my whole front lawn, twigs and branches and leaves. With my sister and Nancy standing proudly next to a hedge that looked like it had been assaulted by a drunken axe murderer.

About 2/3 of the hedge had been trimmed, and its profile rolled and dipped like a hurricane driven surf, ending in a sharp upward turn where they had evidently lost interest, so that they last 5 feet or so of hedge was about 4 feet taller than the rest. The shortest part of the hedge was almost two feet lower than I wanted it cut. I was nearly speechless but told them, really, they shouldn't have put themselves out like that, but they explained that "it had to be done" and they didn't want me to spend so much money on it. And oh, they were done for the night and thought it would be okay to just leave the massive trimmings on the front lawn for a couple of days.

I told them that my city ordinance wouldn't allow that, and I began to drag branches to the back yard. I know they had to be tired, but they pitched right in, to give the devils their due. We filled the only 10 yard waste bags I had, and left a huge pile next to my garage, which it will take me several days to cut and bind for trash pick up. And there will be plenty left over to fill several more yard waste bags. On top of that, there's several more feet of hedge to trim.

My sister and Nancy meant well, obviously. I thanked them for all their hard work, but as they went to Nancy's car, my sister whispered to me, "are you really mad?" I was glad for the hint that her aesthetic judgment isn't as bad as I'd feared, but I told her that no, I was grateful for their help. I can't say this to them, so I will say it here: they are the worst hedge pruners in the entire world.

The hedge looks both half done and half dead, and if I were house hunting I would see it as a huge liability. But then, no one bought the house when I thought it looked good, so anything is possible. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.