Sage and thyme, but I've left out parsley and rosemary and cilantro and dill, but they're all doing very well.
My collards seem to be very happy. I have about 6 or 7 plants.
Unfortunately, my two surviving okra plants aren't that happy. As my mother puts it, "hot and dry", and it certainly hasn't been that here in the northeast. I mean, we're still wrapping up under quilts at bedtime with temps in the low 50s. Not okra weather. Oh well, I'll stick it out to see what I get.
My tomato plants seem healthy as can be. I wove a trellis of nylon cord for them to grow up, and so far, they seem to understand.
I wish I had blooming squash plants to share. Squash blossoms are so fairy tale since they're so big, bright and beautiful.
Fairy tale or not, I still have yellow squash and zucchini babies living under those great big leaves. In about five minutes, I'm sure I'll have grown up squash I can pick and try desperately to give away. Isn't that what happens with squash? At least zucchini?
My brussels sprouts and broccoli seem to be very happy. My cauliflower, not so much. Yet.
Here's a photo of a bed of my Kentucky Wonder pole beans, climbing the trellis, yellow squash, collards down the center and lettuces on either side of the collards.
Did you know that pole beans grow up their supports the opposite direction of other vining plants?
I finally have some healthy looking beet greens, but I have no idea what's happening below ground. My mother says not to be surprised if nothing is happening beneath those beautiful green tops.
And while I have a seeming forest of carrot tops, I fear there is nothing below. Just like the danged beets.
I was fairly confident that my first lettuces were going to be a failure as they didn't match up to neighbors and friends of neighbors around me. However. We have been harvesting mesclun from my first planting, and I'm loving my planting of red leaf lettuce and romaine.
And lastly, some new flowers blooming on the hill behind the house. This flower garden is fun to watch because I have no idea what I planted last summer, nor do I have any idea what my friend, Elise, planted there last summer. This garden is a sort of community effort. It's so big, and there's no way I can buy enough plants to plant the thing, so I've gotten and am getting all kinds of plants friends and neighbors have dug up from their own gardens at division time.