An open letter to the plants in the yard.

You’ve all seen the plaque on the front porch. It’s a lie. There is no dedicated gardener dwelling in this household. It was an earlier occupant.

With that said, it’s time for you all to get over your bad selves. Some of you are here by choice; others just happened to be in the wrong nursery at the wrong time. You all have my condolences, but it is time for a stiff upper lip (or branch as the case may be).

We’re here and we’re together. So let’s work out a living arrangement that we can all live by.

First: I promise to all of you plants in the front yard that I will do everything humanly possible to keep Ralph and Trixie off you. Those of you in the backyard; you’re on your own. Backyarders, you will have an abbreviated life span. But, you are all there by choice. Well, except the poor rhododendron who has spent the last three seasons in a dormant state, (ever since I caught Ralph running around the back yard with him in his wet mouth, like he was a twig. I replanted the rhody, but he hasn’t gotten over the shock yet. I don’t know that he ever will.)
In exchange, I ask that you drink less water than last year. We’re all cutting back, so don’t feel singled out. I’m not sure it is appropriate, but I will bring up global warming just to give you all a little more inspiration!

Second: When the weather is ideal, I promise to tend to your every need, unless I am too tired, have other plans or am just not it the mood.
And for your part, if you chose to stay outside in the heat, you’re all on your own. I know that most of you love the hot sunny days, and I think that is really neat-o-jet, but if it gets above 85, I ain’t running out to hold a parasol over you.

Third: I will always speak kindly of you to strangers.
Unless you chose to kill yourself and cause me extra work. Oregon does have an assisted suicide law, and I fully support your right to take your own life. I just request that you have the common decency to take yourself out to the compost heap (just beside the shed on the north end of the property) before you drink the poison. Don’t make me handle your corpse. I will be in mourning and unable to cope.

I thank you for your assistance.