I’m the opposite of most people. I do not mind cool, wet days spent in a garden. Hot and sunny, while wonderful for the plants, tends to make me exhausted. Last Tuesday, for example, I was over-dressed and ill-prepared. Hopefully, I’ll haul out the cooler and set some ice cube trays in the freezer.

I must admit, things have begun to jump out of the ground. Full-on panic is setting in. Will I get plantings and ornamental pots in order before the onslaught of the summer customers? One can only hope.

I had a lovely conversation with Chilmarker Bob Ganz. He was wondering about planting green beans. We talked about how back in the day, Memorial Day was the earliest date for the warm weather plantings. I tried to get the tomatoes into the ground just before heading to the Tisbury town picnic.

Now I feel behind already. I did seed some beans in large plug trays in the greenhouse. They are growing so fast I need to move them out this weekend. One good thing about beans — at least the bush varieties — they can be planted in succession all the way into August. Some varieties take a mere 50 days.

Growing up we always called them string beans. Has the word gone out of style or do green beans have less strings now? I have a fond memory of sitting on Gramma Kate’s side porch and snapping beans for her to “put up.”

I’m crazy about the baby new leaves on Andromeda. They look like red blossoms from a distance. I like the shrub. It can take full shade and isn’t bothered by deer. The fall tendrils look great in Christmas wreaths.

I’ve run out of steam as far as preparing any more fence space for the peas. Luckily, I’ve got a few beds all ready to receive so I’ll put the rest of the English peas in the bed alongside some fresh twigs cut from the birch tree. They’ll climb right up and not care about a straight row. I grow Green Arrow, Lincoln and Tall Telephone. All three are reliable and heavy producers.

I grow both sugar snaps and snow peas but really prefer the shell types. It is astonishing how big around my asparagus has become. The bed has to be 30 years old. It is overrun with mugwort and spitting cress but doesn’t seem to mind. I hate the spitting cress. When weeding it, a person needs eye protection. The little seed heads explode into mouths and eyes. Wouldn’t it be prudent to weed before it goes to seed? As if!

I picked enough broccoli for a tiny omelet. I grow the old-fashioned open pollinated Waltham cultivar and the Italian Calabrese. Both put out small shoots and will never make the giant heads to which we have become accustomed from the supermarket. However, they are much more flavorful and can be cut every few days for most of the summer.

We had a guest preacher at church on Sunday. He is from Brazil. He mentioned how some people were quite rude to him given his ethnicity and he had to work hard to love them with the mind of Christ. It made me ashamed that as Americans not all of us remember our immigrant roots and fail to welcome the stranger in our midst. I guess the current political situation has given some folks permission to behave badly.

I’ve made a commitment to be super friendly to our Brazilian hard-working neighbors and remember the words of Emma Lazarus on the Statue of Liberty in New York harbor:

“Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, with conquering limbs astride from land to land; here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand a mighty woman with a torch, whose flame is the imprisoned lightning, and her name Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command the air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame. “Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she with silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!” November 1883.