Dear Apple Tree,
One more chance. One more shot, and that’s it.
That’s fair, isn’t it? I mean, we’ve tried for four years running and it’s just not working out. I can’t imagine this comes as a sudden shock. So. The fact is, Apple Tree, if you continue to insist on producing horrible tasting bitter fruit, you are totally next year’s firewood, my friend.
Your apples are totally awful. I mean, shades-of-Snow-White awful. Each season, I take a bite, I pause to taste, and then I spit your foul fruit to the ground and call for an exorcist. You should be ashamed of yourself. I can tell you’re from a good family. You’re grafted onto hardy, excellent root stock. You have been nicely pruned each year, as if you deserve it. If you don’t mind my saying so, I think you’re wasting your potential. If you would only apply yourself.
In addition to all this, you stand there bold as brass right in the middle of my Alpine garden, contributing nothing. Frankly, you’re in the way. So, I suggest you get your act together. Because, the fact is, if you’ll excuse the language, I want me some fancy apple wood a lot more that I want your shitty apples.