A lot has happened in the garden since I last posted. There is so much to see and so much growth to measure in these early June days. The cold rains of May have vanished, and we have had several steamy hot days. Those days comforted the tomato plants and I’m happy to report that their posture has improved. The flowers primped in the heat, and now the butterflies are paying court.
The Words of the Day for this post are from George Washington, who also noticed plant growth, and often found it a convenient analogy. Whether the plants were growing slowly or rapidly, he had something to say about it. I would agree: There is a lot of friendship and even more liberty in a garden.
I am also happy to report that I have seen 6 honeybees already, legs loaded with pollen, when I only counted 4 for the entire season last year.
As always, a venture into the garden involves MacKenzie. These are confusing times for her. She was always welcome, in whatever emotional state she was currently experiencing, when I was first digging the beds and securing the fencing. Her impact was minimal. Then Germination arrived, and her life changed. She has mostly been banished, because the seedlings are delicate and she is not. She is certain the garden is under assault from chipmunks (she is correct) and rabbits (one baby, so far), and her first instinct is to tear into the garden and race up and down the rows in hot pursuit, which is better described as focused hysteria when one is referring to labrador retrievers. Enough. While I admire her intent, I’m choosing my seedlings over her ego, and she knows now to sit and wait at the gate. Evidence:
She's entirely too eager right now. As soon as she settles down, she will be welcomed in.
I began my assessment with the flowers in the garden. We have several flat beds by the front porch, and a steep slope garden that leads down to the lawn. The sun is perfect for perennials. Evidence:
The lavender blooms are a few days away from perfection. Hidcote variety.
Echinacea, alba. This variety was promoted as having a vanilla scent and to be attractive to butterflies. No, and definitely yes.
The blossoms of the milkweed are pinking-up. The butterflies adore the flowers. Monarch caterpillars are especially fond of this plant, and I've photographed many of them visiting.
Those last three are part of my flat-bed gardens. Now to the slope:
Catmint has lovely gray/blue leaves, blue blossoms, and it spreads. Who could ask for anything more?
The catmint is loaded with tiny butterflies. They are some type of skipper, but I'm not sure of the exact type. I need a field guide to butterflies!
The Photo of the Day shows the last of the slope flowers I photographed today. On to the vegetable garden, to see how things are progressing:
Beautiful basil. Genovese.
Beets, but you'd hardly know it. The reddish leaves are just visible, and they are coming along very slowly indeed.
Broccoli, DeCicco. Only 6 seedlings survived, and so I have direct seeded into the bed. I cannot have enough!
Garlic, bold and commanding.
Kale, lacinato. Much to Husband's dismay, every seedling survived and is doing very, very well.
Three lettuces have emerged (I’m waiting for two others):
Lettuce, Amish Deertongue
Green looseleaf lettuce, a butterhead variety.
Red Romaine lettuce.
We have had two salads already, feeding 5 of us, from the lettuce and the spinach. I’m giving the plants a few days rest, before bringing my basket back into the garden before dinner.
Spinach, America. A little later in the season I will plant New Zealand spinach, which looks and tastes like spinach, but is not. I will share photographs of the two seeds, as proof, in a later post.
Rhubarb. This is what is left of my 5 monstrous plants after harvesting stalks for delivery to a local organic food market. And Eldest made a spectacular rhubarb upside-down cake. I have, perhaps, one more harvest to enjoy this season.
Garrison Keillor spoke about zucchini in one Prairie Home Companion broadcast. He alluded to the plant’s astounding production by commenting, “July is the only season of the year when Lutherans lock their cars in the church parking lot. They know that if they don’t, they will find bags of zucchini on the front seat when church has ended.”
My summer squash plants, baby zucchini and a yellow variety named “Zephyr,” are already so large that I am a bit alarmed.
These plants are so healthy that I am afraid. Very afraid.
Peas and beans. I had none last year, thanks to the marauding chipmunks. Earlier posts have described my battles, and I have achieved success — so far. I covered the emerging seedlings with cloches made of plastic milk jugs. Once the plants are approximately 6-8″ tall, the chipmunks lose interest. Here are a few photos of my beans sprouting:
Speckled Cranberry, a bean for drying, has a lovely seed that is tan speckled with red. The seedling has shed that coat and emerged pale white and green. I moved the cloche away so that you can see it clearly.
The cloche is anchored with a stake through the handle. This keeps it in place against the wind and against thieves masquerading as striped darlings.
And finally, the success story that is my pea plants:
Peas, Maxigolt, or as I call them: Amy's Triumph.
The potatoes are doing beautifully:
The trench is filled with potatoes now.
As are the peppers:
Pepper, Ancho Gigantea.
And my Cosmos seedlings. These are planted near the peas. By the time the peas are past, these plants will be ready to stretch out and up, to command that corner of the garden.
Cosmos, Sensation. This variety sports blossoms in red, pink, and white.
By the time I finished photographing, MacKenzie had calmed down. She was allowed inside the garden, and dutifully sat where instructed. Sharing the garden with a calm lab is a lovely way to end the day.
She agrees.
WORDS FROM OTHERS
“True friendship is a plant of slow growth, and must undergo and withstand the shocks of adversity before it is entitled to the appellation.”
“Liberty, when it begins to take root, is a plant of rapid growth.”
— George Washington
Amy in the Garden 
Woah, Amy, you’re not kidding when you say a lot has happened! I especially like the way you describe the garlic as bold. Yep! It’s so evident you have a passion here.
I always intended to take more interim photos of the plants emerging, straightening up, and then growing, but there are only so many hours of daylight! And I do need to talk with my family occasionally…..! I am especially fond of the garlic, because it provides so much satisfaction for so little work. You plant it in November, and all on its own, it pops up in early spring. It grows without any interference from pests, and waits patiently until the more-needy vegetables come and go. Just when you’re ready to take a breath from the year, it is ready to be harvested, and even then it is a mercy: it just hangs around for 3 weeks, drying! I appreciate its independence.