
One must learn a different… sense of time, one that depends more on small amounts than big ones.
~Sister Mary Paul

One must learn a different… sense of time, one that depends more on small amounts than big ones.
~Sister Mary Paul
The hardy herbs are awakening. Thyme, sage, oregano, chives, they all look perkier every day. The parsley, rosemary and mint never really went to sleep, even when muffled in snow. Tiny seedlings of dill, garlic chives, cilantro and lovage are nearly ready to go outdoors and play in the spring sunlight, too.
My garden is always full of herbs. The very first garden I ever planted by myself was an herb garden in a terracotta pot, a couple of decades ago now, and I’ve loved them ever since, and have enjoyed spreading my love to others by teaching them to fondle and caress their herbs, and to squeeze their oil-rich leaves and inhale their perfume regularly (surely good for the soul), and to cook with them and see how prettily and easily they grow. Herbs are one of the best choices for beginners.
Of course, it is much too early to plant out my favorite herb, Basil, which will go out at the same time as the tomatoes. I can never seem to have enough basil plants, and this year will be worse than ever, I fear, since I figured out last year that their blossoms are truly adored by the bees, so much so that some organic gardeners encircle entire fields with basil. I know I’d find this a bewitching enticement to visit any garden, and so I’m not surprised our pollinating friends feel the same.
If ever I stay in one place for long enough to set up a path of stepping stones, I’d like to plant mother of thyme between them, because the scent and look of it is wonderful, and because I love the idea of crushing thyme (time) beneath my feet, and also so that I can live up to this classic advice from Sir Frances Bacon.
“Those herbs which perfume the air most delightfully, not passed by as the rest, but, being trodden upon and crushed, are three; that is, burnet, wild thyme and watermints. Therefore, you are to set whole alleys of them, to have the pleasure when you walk or tread.”
I’ve also decided it may be the moment to put a bit more time between the stepping stones of these blog posts that mark my days. I’ve been posting every single day for over seven months now (with seven notable exceptions), and I think it’s time that I take a little more relaxed approach to my blog schedule. We’ve got a lot going on at the moment, as you’ve no doubt noticed if you’ve been reading along.
Perhaps the quality of the posts will improve, too, once I give myself a wider window to ponder what I publish. I have not been satisfied with what I’ve written of late, and that is something I want to change.
As we begin a new week, and in the United States set our clocks forward an hour, I’m thinking about time. I wish for all of us to live more of those joyful moments of absorption, in observing beauty or creating art or giving love, which cause us to lose all sense of time passing.

I took this photo in the evening, hoping the camera’s flash would demonstrate just how shiny the flat-leaf parsley is. I only realized there was a feather in the shot after I loaded it onto the computer. The birds do love to hang out in the herbs. And who can blame them? If I was that tiny, I’d sit down in a bed of mint, basil or lavender any day. Probably every day.
I’m pleased with the performance of my herbs this year. I did provide them with a little fertilizer specifically intended for herbs (all organic, of course), and early in the season I gave them several doses of a foliar spray of combined kelp meal and fish “emulsion,” which they seemed to love. I generally paid a little more attention to them this year than usual, and I’ve been rewarded with cosmetically perfect specimens that have a lot of flavor.
Herbs are so easy, though, you can just plant and forget about them until you need to snip a bite. I highly recommend the traditional herbs for beginners, especially chives, oregano, rosemary, basil and dill. Cilantro is also easy to grow, but can be tricky as it tends to bolt (set seed, meaning its leaves are useless for cuisine) as soon as it gets hot.
I’ve never had any difficulty with thyme, but I do know several people who claim it is impossible to grow. The key for me with thyme is to not use any of it the first year I plant it. I just basically ignore it, no matter how sick and defeated it looks. Once I was sure my thyme plant was dead, and I still ignored it. The next year it had tripled in size and was healthy and lovely and frothy with pale lavender blossoms, just like the classic English cottage garden plant pictured on the seed packet.
Mint is easy – but dangerous for the beginner. Spearmint might be the original invasive plant. Just be sure when you plant your mint that you want to have mint growing in that spot, and the surrounding area, forever. Forever.
So yes, herbs are easy, unless you’re trying to grow herbs unsuited to your climate, such as Lovage, which we’re trying to grow to use in recipes from F.’s native country, and which looks like it’s been stomped and thrown up on. Every time I look at that poor, pitiful plant, I’m sure it’s perpetually wishing evil things on us for planting it in the hellishly hot and humid climate of South Carolina. Poor thing looks miserable.
And while we’re on the subject of herbs, I’m giving you folks until midnight (Eastern Standard time) Wednesday (September 2) to get your responses to the contest in. This is the contest where I asked you to guess why sage was called “sage.” Not one person has e-mailed me yet in reference to the contest. So you’ve got a pretty good chance at winning if you do e-mail me at all. If I receive no e-mails, I reserve the right to act like an imperious goddess and choose a winner based on my own unfathomable criteria.
I guess I should’ve offered something like a KitchenAid Mixer to get some serious responses. Heirloom seeds only push my buttons, apparently. (A friend suggests I should ask questions requiring less thought. Or just have people sign their name in the comments, something requiring zero investment. But that’s just not fair to my loyal readers, who are all brilliant and creative individuals, I’m convinced. It must be that they’re all too busy being brilliant and creative in real life to waste time on a blog contest with low stakes.)
Anyway, I will go on and give my answer and the results in a sparkling, witty post — or at least a post — on Thursday.
Don’t forget to e-mail your answer to gardenforvictory<at>live.com. (Obviously, replace the <at> with an @.) I’ll take answers from the comments section if I must!
Good luck, y’all!