Momma said KNOCK you OUT

I’m a half-blood of sorts, part Cajun-part Asian…Filipino to be exact, so there are distinct traits, preferences, and tolerances that I have acquired over the years surviving growing up in that sort of “mixed” culture environment.

One thing that I’ve learned about my mom and her Filipino friends is that they have a passion of sorts for gardening, or live plants in general. They treat their plants like trophies on display, giving tours of the “fruits of their labor” to house guests. They take pride in their ability to grow and multiply different plants, both decorative, and consumable. They even babysit each other’s plants in their absence.

I just want to state for the record…I did not inherit the “Zen gardener” part of my Asian heritage. I find no peace, solitude, relaxation nor joy in the act of raising flora. As a matter of fact, I have quite a list of homicides under my belt in my futile attempts to “bring life” to my home by adding indoor plants or by planting a garden. I have successfully killed at least 30 different varieties of flowers and ferns, not to mention the not-so-lucky bamboo and one very unfortunate cactus named Bernie (R.I.P. Bernie Boo). Yes…I killed a cactus. Don’t judge.

So my mom, who regularly nags me about having a desolate and bare lawn encourages me to beautify my property, decided to surprise me by planting not one, but SIX “Knock Out” rose bushes right in front of my home. I love my mom. So willing to work to make things more beautiful, so inspired by the natural beauty of a HOT PINK rose bush that she wanted to plant them all over my yard, so willing to remind me of how EASY it is to maintain said roses, so obsessed with saying “knock out roses” that she litters her conversations with the phrase time and time again. Did I mention the knock outs are hot pink? I thought so. Did I mention that my home has outdated reddish-maroon wood siding on the front of it? Yep, it sure does. And so my mom was all, “Look Abby! Its pink flowers are sooo bright and beautiful! And they match perfectly with your house because pink matches with red!” No it doesn’t.

Anyway, I am really appreciative for what my mom did, even though now my knock outs are a constant source of stress. “Soooo easy.” Uh-huh. “Just water them once a week, and clip off the dead blooms.” Yeah. So riddle me this mom...why do my knock outs look like KNOCKED OUTS?


HELP! Save Us!!

For the record, this is what everyone else’s knock outs look like.

I'm too sexy for your garden.

Another one bites the dust...

Karma filtered

So, Saturday was a long day of cleaning house, organizing drawers and running errands. One of the chores on my handy “to-do” list was to change the air filter for my A/C unit, which was struggling along in the fight against our recent Louisiana heat wave. Please keep in mind, that as I recreate this scenario with you, I was hot, sweaty, tired, and had reached my limit of patience for the day…but I guess that’s still really not an excuse for the “wise” parenting practices I chose:

Picture it: standing before the air duct in my hall with Brandon slightly to my left

Me: “Brandon, please take this new filter out of the plastic while I unscrew the grill from the air duct.”
(I toss the new filter at him and spin to complete the task at hand)

Brandon: “Sure, mom.”

Grill removed, I pull out the filthy air filter and turn to exchange it with Brandon for the new one, only to discover that he STILL had not removed the packaging from the replacement.  "Slow as molasses," as my father would say "Quit fiddly-fartin' around!"  But I did not choose those words...

Me: “Really?! Here...take this old one to the trash and gimme that. You suck!”

(I would like to defend my choice of words by letting you know that I was smiling and using a playful tone at this point, even though I sort of meant it too)

I grab the new filter and in my haste to “school” Brandon on quick packaging removal, I lost my grip on the left side of the filter, causing it to shoot up and smack me in the face, busting my lower lip.

Brandon: (laughing hysterically at this point) “Now THAT’S what you call Karma!”


Lesson learned…pride in check…air filter clean.

Guess What I'M Getting for Christmas!!!

My very own GIFT WRAPPING ROOM!!!! Just like the one in the attached picture. My daddy says he will build me the table and the gift wrapping racks and I am going to convert one of the upstairs bedrooms into my dream room!!!! I am sooooo excited. The room already has a skylight so there is plenty of natural lighting in place. I'm thinking I'll paint the walls a citrus green instead of the red though. and I want to get one of the miner's lamp style light fixture. I told daddy I needed it before December 1st, so I could wrap all my presents haha. I'm open for suggestions if any of my extremely creative friends have any input! Will you come wrap gifts with me?