My Yucca plant story is a laughable one.
It all started just after a very windy night, where paper and plastic trash and your nearest neighbor's patio furniture are strewn all over the place, and your patio furniture is, like-wise, halfway down the block as well.
Generally I wait for the gardeners to clean up the mess, but this time I took matters into my own hands, as didn't want to have to look at this mess for the next week.
The star of my story, still sits a on a hillside just behind an area we use for overflow parking at the back of the house. The incline of the hill is steep a 45°, and is made of an infirm sandstone.
On the day this story starts out, no one is home, and like a complete dim wad, I'm up on this hillside full of cactus, yucca, and other natural California chaparral acting like some possessed trash collector on a mission.
Mostly, I'm just waisting my time collecting newspapers, plastic bags old cardboard boxes and the like. When I come up on this yucca, the other-side of which has this big plastic bag which I thought would come in quite handy gathering up the other trash.
At the center of the yucca was this extremely sharp horn of as yet uncoiled yucca leaves about three feet in length. (I know this because, I put my thumb on the horn just to see how sharp it was).
I firmly planted my right foot just to the right of the yucca, and pulled my way up the hill. Except something went wrong. The sandstone gave way under my feet, and down I went chest first on top of the sharp horn.
In shock over realizing I had just impaled myself, and that it would be days before anyone would notice the buzzards flying behind the house, I quickly stood up to put my dying carcass in a more visible position to be found by someone.
The real shock came when I expected to see and feel the hole in my chest and all the blood gushing in to fill the hole.
There was NO HOLE. NO BLOOD. NO HORN. Just this beautiful flower where the horn used to be.
I'm one hell of a lucky SOB to have survived that morning, and to be here to tell you this tale.
I still think a lot about a lot that morning, and what it did to change me.
One thing this story gave me was a calm fearlessness, in the knowledge that death can take us at anytime for any reason (or in this case, a Darwin Award Blunder). Second, it taught me the value of letting others do their job. Third, it taught me to just lighten up, be less serious and just learn to laugh at myself, and all the little ironies that come our way.
Tofu, You can let Oscar know the one on the right is already taken is worth triple her weight in diamonds and gold, and he would be hard pressed to afford her. As for the other one, she way to clever for him.
SCWIDVICIOUS, thanks for your generous offer, however I feel Oscar might need the company more than me.
this is only a temporary setback.
