Do we really need a caption?
Hi there!
Dee’s weeds again. How have you gardeners been?
If you remember, this time last year we wrote a post.
This summer, we’ve written a song sung to the tune of “Where Have All the Flowers Gone.” We mean no disprespect, but we find our choice ironic. Her Red Dirtness is always saying we’re in a war out here. Her words, not ours.
She thinks we’re evil, but, like squirrels, raccoons and vultures, we’re just acting according to our nature.
Where have all the flowers gone, short time passing?
Where have all the flowers gone, only two weeks ago?
Where have all the flowers gone?
Vacation breeds garden anarchy
When will she ever learn, when will she ever learn?
Where has all the blank space gone, between the daylilies?
Where has all the blank space gone, between the ferns?
Where has all the blank space gone?
Hidden by weeds everyone.
Where can the eye rest, where can the eye rest?
From where have the weeds come, growing faster with the sun?
- Tee, hee, hee!
From where have the weeds come, come to conquer everyone?
From where have the weeds come?
Born by windblown seed
And runners underground, and runners underground?
Where has the gardener gone, long time not seen?
Where has the gardener gone, clippers and gloves left outside?
Where has the gardener gone?
Gone inside where there’s air conditioning.
Sipping tea and relaxing
When will she ever learn? When will she ever learn?
LOL, Dee, I’ll be humming this tune for quite some time:) But you’re too young to remember this song, aren’t you?? I’ve never heard my weeds sing, but I am sure they are laughing at me. The forecast this week is for temps in the 90’s, and this gardener stays in the A/C then, too.
.-= Rose´s last blog ..In the Vegetable Garden =-.
Great post! Very funny,
But seriously, this is why I do not believe in blank space. I try not to have any so my weeds can’t get comfortable enough to sing. Not that it works.
You are too funny! Might as well laugh about the weeds, though, as they are a staple of the garden (at least my garden). I jokingly (or not) say that I have learned to peacefully co-exist with weeds.
.-= nola at the alamo´s last blog ..Tag and Random Things =-.
LOL! I’m afraid to listen to what my weeds are singing.
.-= Mr. McGregor’s Daughter´s last blog ..A Residential Green Roof and Raingarden =-.
The only sound I want to hear from my weeds is screaming as they die a quick death! But wait … what’s that I hear coming from around the garage where I raked back the mulch? Oh NO!
.-= Cindy, MCOK´s last blog ..Getting Stoned on My Corner of Katy =-.
You made me laugh! I don’t know if I’ll be laughing tomorrow when I go check my garden after coming back from a short vacation! There were no any weeds on the beach!
Thank you for the comments on my blog!
You are singing my song. I came back from Mexico to a weedy jungle after the big rains. hehehehe. Until I finally get up the gumption to clean it out.
They sometimes make up a large part of the chorus!
There are several choral groups of weeds out in my garden too. Their singing makes my eyes sore as well as my back, fingers…
Even if you don’t go on vacation all the empty space fills up.
.-= Kathy from Cold Climate Gardening´s last blog ..Planted Two Shade Lovers =-.
Your weeds are very talented. Of course, once you pull them and through them in the compost, what kind of song do they sing then?
.-= Carol, May Dreams Gardens´s last blog ..A Session with Dr. Hortfreud: Rain =-.
I’m sorry Dee. My weeds are never-ending as well. I’d lend you my great kindergartener weed-puller for a day if we lived closer – his young back never gets sore and he glady pulls hundreds of weeds in exchange for a handful of change.
I had the tune going through my mind when I read your post,if I had been in the office alone, I may have sung it!
OK, sometimes I talk to my flowers.But Singing weeds would scare me if I just walked out to the weed patch and heard that.
LOL, that could be a gardener’s anthem. If these plant hybridizers could take a weed gene and add it to a peony, we’d have peony bushes the size of maple trees.
Marnie