AFTER A STEAMY ROUND OF EDGING, watering, weeding, mowing, mulching, I typed this on Facebook yesterday: “In a word: overwhelmed! Bringing the garden back to some semblance of order as spring turns to summer is always a challenge.” Several dozen of you commiserated, and then I recalled: It happens every year. About this time I always want to throw in the trowel and mow the garden down, frustrated that it’s not “perfect” or “all done,” but an ongoing puzzle with rough edges. This vintage essay from 1990 proves how long I’ve been bumping into this calendar moment, and nudges me to ease up and remember: Gardening is a process. Maybe I should be more like Jack, above, and just go legs up when things get too sticky?