Poppies
My garden looks like shit, so I'm showing a nice picture from a European poppy garden instead. These are not opium poppies; if you want those scatter the seeds from your poppy seed bagel on some fallow ground. Though of course this would be illegal and not very useful as the poppies themselves do nothing much except look ravishing. And then the police will come and burn down your garden.
My actual garden right now consists of lots of six-foot tall plants that have fallen on top of each other. Hank and Henrietta (my dogs) crawl around in the tunnels that are created this way, seeking for good pooping spots. All this is my fault: I Did Not Stake! Always stake. That is the second commandment of the gardener's bible.
The first commandment is: Work The Garden Hard In April and May. I didn't do that, either. I was here blogging away, and enormous waves of guilt are flooding over me right now. But not enormous enough to send me out with a machete and thick gloves, and that's what is needed to clear the garden.
Does George Bush feel similar waves of guilt for ignoring his allotted garden spot for so long?