Dear Ilene’s Garden, After careful consideration, I’ve decided to put you out of your misery. I don’t take this responsibility lightly, but it’s clearly time. You had such promise in May, but let’s face it—you’ve never been an overachiever, and this process requires full dedication. I’ve noticed you daydreaming a lot (no doubt fantasizing about a bumper crop come autumn). WAKE UP, GARDEN! Where do you think you are? Minnesota?? I remember that one radish you produced a couple years ago. It was a very good radish, but hardly worth the $400 investment. For that price, you could’ve bought a full pint of radishes at Whole Foods—maybe even some lettuce to make a salad. I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, Garden, but surely you must sense it’s time. Poor Ilene, bless her heart. Her foolish optimism makes me want to tie her up in a little bag and push her into Ladybird Lake. She has done more to set back the art of gardening than Monsanto. It’s as if she’s her own little Dust Bowl, only dustier. I hope at long last you will both find peace. Your friend, August 2013