I meant to write Friday, but was prevented from doing so by a flash thunderstorm that dumped sheets of water, overturned my greenhouse, knocked out the power, and moved on within about ten minutes. Notwithstanding the rain, my peas and lettuce were drooping today–not surprising considering it was nearly ninety, but still, I was glad it rained again this evening. I meant to write Saturday, but was prevented from doing so by a much more successful party than I frankly expected. There was a good mix of people, we had plenty of food and games, and the ice cream was mostly well received. The major hits were lemon and chai.

I also talked plants with my friend Carol, and traded some: she brought down shasta daisies and sage and Johnny Jump-Ups for me, and I gave her the rest of my anise hyssop and some wandering jew cuttings. She was delighted to hear I have Sorrento broccoli seeds, and helped me shore up the peas that for some reason keep wandering south of the trellis instead of sticking to it like good pea plants should.

Today was a lazy day of resting and staying inside, and I was glad that it rained because that meant I didn’t have to water. I saved most of the plants from the greenhouse but I need to replant some indigo and some Romanesco broccoli, but I didn’t; I didn’t even go out to pick lettuce as I probably should have. All I did was take a picture of the broad beans. I still haven’t done anything to help them (my mother-in-law suggested spraying with dilute dish soap), and when I looked at them a few days ago I noted that the flowers were wilted and dirty and dying. I was sad, but I shrugged, figuring this was what I got for not caring for my plants. Then I looked closer and saw that the flowers had wilted because beans were growing.

I love these things. I don’t even care what they taste like; I can’t do anything but admire these plants that just keep going, no matter what’s bugging them. These beans need no excuses. I need to adopt them as my mascot.