The lilies and daylilies are scrumptious this year.
Some red monarda growing next to bronze fennel.
Rose campion. 
Next comes the rosemary. This plant is enormous for rosemary in MY growing experience. It grows next to a fir tree, and is cracking me up as it appears to be trying to compete for size. That could be my imagination. I've been known to assign motives to inanimate objects before, but it just seems to have an attitude. I distilled rosemary last year, and besides the bit of eo, the hydrosol has maintained every bit of its scent over the year. It might be a good choice. Rosemary soap is great, and the hydrosol could be used as the water.
Balloon flowers aren't a good choice. To my knowledge, there's no reason to distill them. Still, this soft pink flower always catches my breath. I love the deep rays that stretch out from the center, the perfect symetry, and the way the buds turn into perfect hot-air balloons. When the guys in the family were piloting balloons, we found these flowers. The deep blue is stunning too. I just chose the pink because it is so delicate.
The front garden. Nothing of interest here YET. The vitex was very interesting 2 years ago, and it made a lovely hydrosol. This year I would also like to try distilling echinacea to see what comes of it. It's the experimentation that appeals to me more than anything.
Ah...meadow tea. I think this is spearmint. It reminds me so much of my childhood, when we'd set out for the day to play down by the creek. The boys would fish from a small plastic boat while I just tryed to stay as far as possible from A) fish hooks and B) stinging nettle. The scent of this mint is blended with the scent of fish living in a creek, to form one fresh, wild scent. A few years back I met a land management guy who, as we walked around a spring-fed pond, talked about being able to smell fish in a pond before even knowing there was a pond over the next hill or beyond the tree line. I knew exactly what he meant. It isn't a fishy smell. It's a smell of pollywogs and mud and grasses, mints and burn hazel and water. But this mint brings that smell to mind every time. I was glad to have someone point out to me that there even is such a thing as that. This would make a delicious distillate. It could be used in all kinds of ways, not the least of which would be culinary.
Now this is the mountain mint that came home with me from Baton Rouge in ...was it last year? It has gotten huge and lush. The tops of the stems have all turned this luscious shade of pale green, while the lower leaves are brilliant jade green. This distills beautifully. We did it for an herb guild last fall, and it was so strong as to make us almost woozy. The resulting hydrosol makes a spectacular body spray on hot days - especially if kept cold in the fridge. It also makes a wonderful minty soap. 
This would be the apple mint. There is so much out there right now I could fill the still 10 times and there would be enough left over to dry and have a few pounds. The plants are incredibly healthy, reaching halfway up the pines they grow amongst. The trees are about 7' tall. I distilled this mint last year, and it is a delicious, juicy mint. It is nice as it fills the room with refreshing mint while steaming away, producing essential oil and lots of hydrosol.
Between my garden and my sister's garden, we'd probably have enough calendula to try. I've never done that one. It would probably be pretty sticky in the biomass flask, but that's simple enough to clean with a little alcohol. Perhaps we'll do this one later. If it works, I won't want to give it away, and it probably wouldn't be good to experiment in front of a group - if the experiment fails.
I just like the blue of the chicory next to the blue spruces. It looks so pretty out in the field. Besides the chicory, there is a lot of Queen Anne's lace. The three together are stupendous. I'm pretty sure my bil doesn't feel the same, as the weeds aren't a good thing for him.
Last shot for today is the elderflower slowly turning into elderberry. There are so many berries on the bushes this year that I just might try distilling them. That might be really cool. Or not. We'll see.
So aside from that, I have peppermint, chocolate mint, and holy basil that could be distilled. It might just turn out to be whatever we're in the mood for on Friday when we pick it. There are just too many choices.
Right now the herbs are all knocking themselves out, wanting to be a part of the daily cooking experience.
This is one of "the girls" after the haircut.
Last week we were coming home from the post office, and right there where the peaches will be in another month were these gorgeous cherries. We have this great farm stand where they sell the county's best peaches every year. After peaches they have many varieties of apples. This is the first year for cherries, though.
working on tiny teapots. She has made several of them using glass rods and an oxygen torch. You can see quite a few on her blog, but my favorite is this green one that looks like a miniature antique. I adore the way the frit she used along the sides look like tiny roses and leaves.
It has taken me almost a week to get around to this blog entry. The July/Aug issue of The Essential Herbal was delivered while we were away at the Alloway Creek Art and Garden Festival, so for the first half of the week that needed to be prepared for mailing. It has become quite an operation - first the bulk mail to the subscribers is prepared and taken out to the PO, and that is followed by the shop copies, writer's copies, and the advertiser's copies. Sometimes it takes me well over a week to accomplish, but I'm patting myself on the back to have gotten it done in short order this time with no loose ends hanging.
other people create gardens. All of them add touches of whimsy and demonstrate unusual techniques or ideas that inspire me. At Barb's, I saw my first lavender hedge, something that stayed with me, nagging, until I had my own long row of lavender along the split rail fence out back.
This elderberry bush is perhaps 20" wide and just as tall. It was covered with the elder blow. There is something so delightful about the flowers, so delicate and sweet. There will be enough berries on this bush to keep the birds happy for a while, with enough left over to create some syrup, tincture... and maybe even dry some. I don't know what Barb does with them. There are probably several bushes in the fields surrounding the farm.
This is our tent, nestled in right under the paw-paw grove. That really helped to keep us in the shade. Little gold no-see-ums seem to like paw-paw trees. They liked us too. We used some of our Git Stick the first day, and escaped their wrath, but forgot on Saturday. Maryanne's legs got pretty well eaten up. You can see the standing displays below. They were just put together during the week prior to the show. They kept the lipbalms and the lotion sticks up-right and miracle 0f miracles, we didn't have any melted product. However, we did lower the tent overnight on Friday, and condensation dripped on some of the shrinkwrapped soaps. About 10 bars needed to be unwrapped and air-dried for a while. No problem, though. They're fine.
This little potting shed catches my eye every year. See the elderberry bush beside it? That's just a wee portion. I don't know what the thistle is growing in front, but I just love the way it was allowed to grow in front of the door. There's that whimsy.
The yellow striped tent held about 6 vendors. There were some unusual hostas and water plants, along with some antiques and one booth with some really fascinating artwork done with found objects. I really loved her stuff, and regret not getting a particular box from her that was decorated with baubles, glitter, and dolls heads. It was just so out-there, and even though it sounds weird (well... I guess it was, really), it turned out to be a thing of beauty. Last time we did this show, we shared the yellow tent, but decided to be stand-alone this time. It's fun both ways.
about the first really perfect days we've had for a while, with cool and wet being the typical forecast in May. So, like any self respecting gardener, I set about reclaiming the gardens. They aren't all under control, but it is a darned sight better than it was. There really should be some "before" pictures, but honestly that would have been to embarrassing. To begin, let's start out with my $1 wheel barrow that I found at the barn sale down the road last week. Don't ask me why (or even how) I've been working on all the different areas here without one. It was ridiculous. So that would explain why I swerved into the farm lane and tossed this baby into the back of the car. It reminds me so much of my first car. Looks like crap, but does a fine job. The fact that it's already been WELL broken in means that I won't have to feel bad about scratching it with a shovel, or leaving it out overnight when it might get a little rust.
You can see here the thousands of spikes starting to form. It's time to stock up on some ribbons for wands, and this year we'll have plenty to sell in bunches at market. Maybe enough to distill, too. Just a few short days ago it was hard to tell where the field ended and the row of lavender began. Is it just me? Or do all gardeners suffer anxiety attacks when their gardens are looking invaded? Just looking at that crisp row makes me feel so much better! The Bergarten Sage in the foreground is just barely blooming this year, spending all of her energy on putting out those lush leaves. That's fine with me. The leaves are the part we use anyway.
They form the corner of the berry patch (protected by the lattice panels). Inside are lots of blueberry plants and some very healthy elderberry bushes. The blueberries aren't doing anything except growing yet. Same with the elderberries. I'm hoping that the warmer temps and the mulch will give them a little shove in the direction of blossoms. If not, there's always next year. However, 2 of the blueberries that I had considered nibbled to death by the rabbits or groundhogs have decided to start growing again. That was a pleasant surprise. Those varmints chewed them off right down to the ground. 
An elderberry facing another direction is already in bloom, but the leaves are yellow - possibly too close to a white pine? This is her third year. Last year there was just one umbel. The frothy elder "blow" is such a pretty thing. It's hard to decide whether to harvest the flowers or wait for the berries (and fight the birds for them). The birds are incredible this year too! Yesterday I saw an Oriole, brilliant orange swooping over the pines. The Gold Finches are everywhere, and a hummingbird sipped at the chive blossoms. Bluebirds? Yeah, we've got 'em.
Just last week I picked off every single bloom for the still, and you can see that didn't give them a moment's pause. They just put out more flowers. They need another picking, but we're talking hours here. It is no small feat to pluck that many flowers. It is akin to picking the violets for syrup, except that the violets snap away from stem more quickly. Chamomile requires a small pinch to keep the stemmage to a minimum. It's such a cheerful little spot. I love to sit in the grass next to the patch, and watch the sun go down over the flowers while picking.
It is in full bloom now, and the scent is amazing. Off to the left is an old-fashioned, late-blooming lilac bush. The day the lilacs stopped perfuming the entrance, the Valerian went into bloom, giving us a non-stop, breath-taking welcome to the outdoors every time we step outside.
Next to it is a smaller version that came up on its own last year. It has a couple of little spikes this year. This is the first time I've ever had a lavender mom and baby. That was one of those great surprises!
