Those Incredible Talking Gardens and the Mean and Nasty Messages They're Sending Me

My gardens are sad.  At night, when all is quiet and the windows are open, I can practically hear them griping about the awful woman who lives just beyond the walls they surround.  "We'd be so beautiful if only she'd get off her lazy ass and perk us up a bit," they complain, sending spiteful vibes through the layers of shingles, framing, and drywall.  So it has come to this.  Guilt has led me to delusions of sulky, despondent flora.  That's not good.

I had such wonderful intentions back in May.  Once Memorial Day weekend arrived, I would spend a good portion of those three days in the gardens, cleaning and beautifying.  I'm not sure what I actually did instead.  I'm pretty sure some wine and our friends Ellen and Jason played a key factor in the change of plans, though.  It's that whole "...best laid plans of mice and men..." thing.  The point is, the gardens remained ignored the entire weekend and still remain as such. 

Now the problem is not just that they need "sprucing."  They need a total overhaul.  I have weeds growing out there that look like they should be living alongside a nuclear power plant.  And when things get so overgrown, who the heck knows what kinds of beasties are living among the leaves?  Jay has already found a snake living in our shed.  And it is still living there, apparently.  I just plan on making a lot of  noise whenever I need to go in there.  Which hasn't happened yet, as my gardens can easily attest that no garden tools have been removed from said shed. 

So, the daunting workload facing me and fear of creepies and crawlies aside, I am publicly pledging to have my gardens cleaned up one week from today.  I'm tired of listening to them bitch.  And to humiliate myself further, I am posting pictures of what these gardens look like right now, this very moment:

There's actually a holly bush somewhere in there.

Sage that has become so overgrown that it has flowered and gone to seed. 

What the WHAT?  Have no idea what this is.

Gooseneck Loosestrife.  My bane.

Not sure what this is, but it's in every single garden of mine.  In my crazy mind it has promise to grow pretty flowers, but I think it's just goldenrod or something like it.

Weeds gone to seed to spread their love elsewhere.

This sucker is shoulder-height.

Another one I have no clue about.  Almost looks like a vegetable.  Be careful of your side dishes at dinner, Jay.

So, now that I have totally exposed what an embarrassment these gardens are, I give you your mission:  Who will ask me on Tuesday, June 19th, to post pictures of my beautiful, cleaned-up gardens?  Go ahead.  I dare you.  You may get new pics, you may get a bunch of convoluted excuses.  That's the beauty of surprise!