Dear Spring Abbey,
Hello! It's me, Fall Abbey.
Yes, I am VERY happy to wear sweaters and make soup, “Thank you very much.” You'll come over. But I didn't come here to talk about wardrobes, and you know that.
I see you have that guilty look on your face, so I'll jump in right away – yes, I'm the one who was left to clean up all the weeds that almost overtook the plants you ambitiously planted in the ground in the hope of a bountiful harvest, but then neglected to weed and/or at least mulch VERY much.
I know, I know. It was cold and then it was hot – REALLY hot – and then it was summer and then you were gone and here we are.
But, Spring Abbey, you've lived in Ohio your whole life. You should know better.
I mean… I see. I remember what it felt like to stroll the aisles of the garden center, with its abundance of houseplants and accessories, a veritable paradise amidst the still brown and cold Midwestern landscape, and dreaming of Instagrammable baskets full of homegrown produce and sauces flavored with fresh herbs; Christmas gifts of dried flowers and enough bounty to share with the neighbors.
(That reminds me – remember that time when you thought you could start your plants from seeds? Ha, that was a good idea. COVID, “amiright?”)
I remember when you bought that gardening hat and thinking about how it would protect your face from the sun during all those long hours you dutifully weeded the flower beds.
(I'm proud of you for having the confidence to stick to perennials when designing your garden; you really can't go wrong with coneflowers and black-eyed Susans, I always say.)
Anyway, listen up: I applaud you for your ambition and knowing this about you – that you're ambitious and like to dream big – I decided to leave you with a few things to take care of because I'm kind of overwhelmed with gardening.
The strawberries you put in ended up taking up more than their allotted share of floor space, which wouldn't be so bad if they ended up being little more than chipmunk food. Next year I need you to wall up these idiots or we'll have to start advertising ourselves as a you-pick farm.
Now let's talk about the weeds. What did you do all summer to cause the back fence to become overgrown with invasive vines? Laundry? Psh. The kids aren't even in school all summer, who needs clean clothes?
Here's what we'll do to make sure something like this doesn't happen again:
I'll leave you with some weeds to take care of since you seem to like to stay busy when the weather warms up, but not afterward.
You can have the weeds in the garden beds, the poison ivy on the corner of the gate that won't die, whatever is going on on the other side of the back garage that I can't see, and also the evergreens that could probably use a good trim.
I think these things should get you off to a good start in the spring and hopefully serve as a reminder not to be too ambitious, lest I end up giving you more to do before the start of a new season.
I know a lot of my problems should probably lie with Summer Abbey, but I can't seem to reach them. I have a feeling she left at the start of the school year and I won't see her for quite a while.
As always, I appreciate your ambition – I really do – and that's why I'm leaving these tasks to you. Please, for the sake of sunshine, lay down some landscape fabric and consider what you will do with the morning glories so they don't destroy the porch.
Maybe try wearing the gardening hat too. I would hate for it to go to waste.
Kind regards in Yardwork,
Autumn Abbey
PS: Don't worry, I'll assign Christmas lights to Winter Abbey. As if she had something better to do.
Abbey Roy is a mother of three girls who make every day an adventure. She writes to keep her sanity. You can probably reach her at amroy@nncogannett.com, but responses focus on bedtimes and weekends.
This article originally appeared on Newark Advocate: Spring ambitions lead to more fall tasks than desired | Roy Abbey